


Achilles' Heel

by sarcasticfluentry



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: A lot of kissing, Angst To Follow, Bad Ideas, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Reid In Peril, Rimming, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-04-12 21:04:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 34,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4494675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticfluentry/pseuds/sarcasticfluentry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Working Title: There's A Reason The FBI Anti-Fraternization Rules Exist </p><p>Morgan and Reid get together (over and over) and become really good at ignoring the multitude of reasons why that's a bad idea until a case goes south and Strauss gives them an ultimatum. Can they keep their relationship or even manage to salvage their friendship?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is gonna be like 100k or so and there's going to be lots of angst in the middle (preceded by and followed by a lot of sex). Takes place roughly mid-season 7. Enjoy.
> 
> I haven't abandoned my other fics I promise!  
> 

_The unsub is a delusional narcissist who believes himself to be a scientist,_ Spencer Reid thinks frantically, repeating the profile in his head to keep himself calm. _He truly believes that what he’s doing will lead to a cure for leukemia, almost certainly because he or a family member is afflicted. Because of the personal nature of his experiments, his goal is never to kill, and he’s likely rationalized the subsequent deaths of his subjects as not being his fault. He’s so far inside his own head that he will respond very negatively to criticism, and it might even cause him to further devolve._

That’s what Reid is counting on, actually. He and Morgan had been assigned to check out the house of a hospital social worker who fit the profile, while the rest of their team paired off and investigated other potential unsubs. When they’d heard screams coming from inside the house, Morgan had radioed for backup and then the two of them had split up to search the house.

Reid had the fantastic fortune of being the one to find the man who is now certainly their unsub - Patrick Collins - in the basement, standing over a makeshift operating table and getting ready to extract spinal fluid and bone marrow from a sobbing, restrained victim.

“Mr. Collins,” Reid says loudly, unwilling to wait even the mere minutes it would take Morgan to find them. “FBI, drop the instrument.”

“It’s _Doctor_ Collins,” the other man hisses, stepping toward Reid and away from his latest victim.

Good. That’s what Reid wants, to get Collins’ attention away from the victim and onto him. Keep him talking, keep stalling until Morgan gets here.

“It’s not _doctor,_ though, is it?” Reid asks, keeping his gun trained on Collins. “This is coming from someone with three PhDs - we did our research, and you’re not a doctor of anything.”

Collins’ face contorts in rage, his hand shaking as he holds the needle aloft. “I’m advancing the field of-”

“I asked you to drop your weapon,” Spencer says calmly. “I won’t ask again.”

“This?” asks Collins, waving the large syringe around. “This isn’t a weapon, you fool! The research I’ve done with this is going to save-”

“As far as I’m concerned, it is a weapon,” Reid interrupts him. “You killed three people with it and paralyzed three more.”

“Shut up! You’re lying!”

“I’m not,” insists Reid. “And you provoked life-threatening reactions in six cancer patients when you attempted to immunize them with bone marrow that didn’t match their HLA type. Tell me, Mr. Collins, what kind of doctor does that? Are you that uneducated or do you just not care?”

“Enough!” roars Collins.

Well, at this point Reid’s _definitely_ gotten Collins’ attention off of the victim and onto him, but the young agent is starting to suspect he’s pushed the unsub a little too far with his criticism. He steadies his gun - he doesn’t want to hurt Collins, who clearly needs help, and he wills Morgan to get here quickly so the other agent can tackle Collins and be done with it.

“There are always failures in clinical trials,” Collins growls, his voice trembling with fury.

“There’s always supposed to be informed consent, too,” says Reid. “But I guess you wouldn’t know that, since you’re not a doctor-”

Collins roars and lunges for him, twisting his body in such a way that when Reid’s gun goes off, it only hits Collins in the shoulder and he crashes headlong into the young agent, sending both of them to the ground as Reid’s gun skids across the floor. Reid’s head hits the stone floor hard and he grunts, lying dazed for a few seconds and unfortunately giving the larger man on top of him a chance to overpower him.

“I can’t understand why the FBI would want to impede the progress of science,” Collins grits out, clearly in pain from the bullet in his shoulder. “But I need all the samples I can get, and no hotshot fed’s gonna stop me from finding a cure for my sister.”

Reid cries out as the other man flips him over, his head still throbbing as Collins rucks up his shirt and FBI vest and then takes both of his wrists in one meaty hand even as Reid tries to struggle. Collins’ other hand presses into his spine, feeling around for vertebrae in a manner that Reid knows is pseudo-scientific and most likely part of the ritual to feed the unsub’s delusion of being a doctor. Whatever the reason for it, Spencer starts to panic when he realizes the unsub’s going to stick that large, unsanitary needle into him and most likely either paralyze or kill him in attempt to extract spinal fluid and bone marrow. He opens his mouth to cry for help and manages to get out a yell of Morgan’s name before Collins hisses and wraps his free hand around Reid’ throat.

Once Spencer starts thrashing around in pain and gasping for air, Collins lets go and positions the needle on his back in a place that Reid realizes with a sob is probably going to paralyze him for the rest of his life.

“FBI!”

The needle against Reid’s skin twitches but doesn’t break skin and Reid could almost sob with relief when he hears Derek’s voice.

“Drop the weapon now,” Morgan continues as the other victim continues to cry in the background.

“It’s not a weapon,” Collins growls, tightening his hold on Reid’s wrists.

Spencer can only hope that Derek takes a different approach at handling the unsub than his own misguided attempts.

“Of - of course it’s not, my mistake,” Morgan says after a beat of silence.

“Now get out of here so I can continue with my research,” says Collins.

“I can’t do that, mis- I mean, Doctor Collins,” Morgan continues. Reid’s whole body floods with warmth and relief as he realizes just how clever Morgan’s being. “Johns Hopkins contacted us and asked us to locate you and bring you in so you can join their team.”

“Then how come Mr. Three PhDs here shot me and tried to arrest me? You can’t fool me.”

“He’s just jealous that he can never accomplish what you’re doing,” Morgan says quickly, clearly appealing to the unsub’s narcissistic personality disorder. “I - I can assure you we’ll deal with him properly once we have him in custody. I’m sorry for everything you’ve had to go through, Dr. Collins.”

Collins huffs. “It’s about time somebody recognized my accomplishments.”

“If you’d just get off him so I can handcuff him, we’ll be off to Hopkins in no time,” Morgan assures him.

“Oh, sure,” Collins says agreeably. “You know, I’m glad you interrupted, because I didn’t even think to check his family history for cancer first and-”

There’s a loud grunt behind Reid and the sound of something heavy hitting the floor.

“Patrick Collins, you’re under arrest for the murders of Cameron Marquez, Katherine Meyers, and Marion Park,” Morgan growls, the distinct _clink_ of handcuffs telling Reid that it’s finally safe to get off the ground and tend to the other victim, ignoring his throbbing head in the process.

xxx

After Spencer is assured that he hasn’t suffered a concussion and is released from the hospital, Morgan drives him back to the hotel. The dark-skinned agent is sitting stone-faced and silent in the driver’s seat, barely engaged in Reid’s feeble attempts to make conversation and making the genius feel even worse about himself than he already does.

Morgan gets like this every time an unsub tries to go after Reid, and Reid’s convinced it’s because the older man is exasperated and fed up with rescuing Reid from situations that a better agent wouldn’t have gotten themselves into.

The rest of the team is already back at the hotel, and Spencer meekly follows Derek into their shared room, his mind set on a hot shower and a clean pair of pajamas to sleep in.

"Um, do you want first shower, or do - should I?" Reid asks haltingly.

Morgan just shrugs, crossing the room quickly and flopping into an armchair before putting his head in his hands.

"Oh-kay," says Reid slowly. "I'll just - right."

Morgan doesn't honor that with any sort of response.

Spencer opens his suitcase and selects a pair of pajamas, matching ones that are pale blue in color and smell like his lavender laundry detergent. Then he heads into the bathroom, closing the door behind him before turning on the shower and stripping out of his clothes, which are smeared with dirt and blood.

The shower is just on the right side of too hot and Reid steps under the water gratefully, washing away the day. Unfortunately, he can't cleanse himself of the shame that’s crawling through him, the whispers in his head telling him that Morgan’s tired of saving him - that the whole _team_ is fed up with his damsel in distress act. Reid is too, make no mistake.

Probably the worst part about it is that it always seems to be _Morgan_ that finds him, as opposed to another member of the team that Reid _isn’t_ constantly worried about impressing. Reid has long since come to terms with the fact that his little inconvenient crush on the other agent has no chance of ever going anywhere, but it would be nice if life wasn’t constantly reminding him how much of a chance he doesn’t have.

Spencer sighs, rubbing shampoo through his hair. It’s getting long, longer than he’s had it in a while - but just the other day Derek told him how much he liked Reid’s hair long, so. He’s probably not going to cut it for a while. Maybe his long hair will help fix the fact that Morgan doesn’t seem to want to speak to him at all. Reid has to - he’s going to go out there and let Morgan know that he’s going to be more careful, he really is, and that he’s sorry for all the times the other agent’s had to waste valuable time and energy on him.

xxx

Meanwhile, in the bedroom, Derek Morgan is contemplating cracking open the minibar and drowning his sorrows in tiny bottles of bureau-funded alcohol. His whole body is thrumming with nervous energy and adrenaline from seeing Spencer on the floor like that, completely at the unsub’s mercy with his gun halfway across the room - at this rate, without something like a nightcap to calm Morgan down, it’s going to take him hours to fall asleep.

Don’t get him wrong, Morgan would run unarmed into a hail of bullets if it meant that he could somehow protect Reid and keep him safe. He just - he just sometimes wishes that Reid would be a little more cautious and have a little more regard for his _own_ life. He’s too selfless, is the problem. Spencer Reid is still too trusting, selfless, and naive than anyone who’s been in the FBI for nine years has any right to be.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that, Morgan thinks. It’s admirable. It’s part of what Morgan loves about him. Er, likes about him. Because they’re really close friends, and although Morgan’s told _Garcia_ he loves her about a dozen times in the past week, the phrase somehow feels _different_ in relation to Reid, like it has more weight. So he’s never said it.

“I love you” only becomes important in relation to Reid when the kid’s in a life-or-death situation, which unfortunately happens far more frequently than Morgan would like. He’s lost count of how many times he’s had to stop himself from blurting out some truly sappy and embarrassing things when Reid’s appeared on the verge of death - and Morgan's never had to actually say any of that stuff, because as much as Spencer is a complete trouble magnet, he also has an uncanny ability to cheat death in increasingly precarious ways.

Morgan’s pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of the bathroom door opening, followed by Reid stepping out in a cloud of steam. He’s about to make a joke - something like _Save any hot water for me, pretty boy?_ \- but then he remembers that he’s mad at the younger agent for putting his life in jeopardy yet again.

“Shower’s all yours,” Reid says quietly. He digs through his suitcase and finds a comb, then begins running it through his hair, which is pin-straight when it’s wet.

Morgan grunts in acknowledgment and heads for the bathroom, unable to look at Reid for more than a few seconds without feeling the urge to yell at him. Or hug him. Morgan’s not exactly sure which one he wants to do more, which is kind of unsettling.

The shower already smells like the body wash and shampoo that Reid favors, some combination of eucalyptus and spearmint that Morgan's pretty sure is from Bath & Body Works. Reid used to use shampoo that smelled like vanilla, but Morgan knows an unsub ruined that about two months ago by commenting how nice Reid's hair smelled when he was holding him at gunpoint.

 _God,_ it makes Derek's blood boil when he thinks about how often Reid gets into trouble like that. He knows Spencer can't help it, but it doesn't stop him from being a tiny bit angry at the younger man. Morgan just cares about him so _much,_ is the thing, and at this rate he's going to die at an early age from high blood pressure instead of the myriad of other ways he _could_ die doing this job.

None of the other agents seem to have the same problem. At least, Morgan _hopes_ they don’t. That’s how he knows he’s in a little bit of trouble when it comes to his pretty boy - thinking about Hotch, Prentiss, or (god forbid) Rossi feeling the same way about Spencer as Derek does makes his face hot with something that feels a lot like jealousy.

 _You’ve just gotta make it through tonight,_ Morgan tells himself once he’s out of the shower. _Just make it through the night and tomorrow you can sleep in your own bed, play with your dog and kick back and watch some TV by yourself._

He dries himself off, pulls on a pair of black cotton boxer briefs, then pads out into the hotel room to find Reid curled up on his side of the bed, propped against the headboard as he reads. His hair has already partially dried from the shower, frizzing at the ends into sweet little curls, and he’s wearing those big glasses he uses after he takes out his contacts. Morgan’s having a hard time remembering to stay mad at him when he looks that adorable. Especially in those matching fucking pajamas, _Jesus._

“Are - are you alright?” Reid asks.

Morgan jolts and realizes he’s been caught staring. Spencer’s cheeks are slightly pink.

“M’fine,” he mumbles, walking over to his suitcase and pulling out a pair of grey sweatpants.

“Is everything okay?”

Morgan doesn’t answer that for a few seconds, and the pause seems to make Reid even more anxious, because seconds later he’s stumbling to continue, “Because I feel like you might be mad at me and you seem upset and I don’t know why because the case is over and the latest victim didn’t die and everything turned out as okay as it could and I know you’re probably getting tired of saving me but I didn’t want to wait for backup because he had his needle out and he was about to-”

“Reid,” Morgan says sharply. Spencer’s mouth snaps shut. “Reid, I’m not _mad_ at you, I just - I’m just-”

“Disappointed?” Reid fills in, clearly assuming the worst as he closes his book and puts it on the nightstand.

“No, that’s not it, I just wish you’d be a little more careful.”

Reid snorts. “You do the same thing, like, _all_ the time!”

“What, rushing into a confrontation with no backup?”

 _“Yes,”_ says Spencer, sounding exasperated.

“Yeah, but I can handle it,” Morgan insists.

A hurt look passes over Reid’s face and Morgan instantly feels bad. “And I can’t?”

“Judging by today’s little fiasco, apparently not,” says Morgan, forcing himself to remain firm. “Look, kid, I just-”

“Don’t call me that,” Reid snaps.

Morgan looks over at him in surprise. Spencer’s gotten off the bed, slouching a bit with his hands clasped together and his mouth twisted into a frown. “What?”

“Don’t call me a kid,” says Spencer, keeping his eyes on the floor. “I’m not a kid, I’m 30 years old.”

“When did that suddenly become a problem? I’ve been calling you kid since I first met you.”

“It became a problem when I realized you don’t trust me.”

Morgan raises his eyebrows so high they feel like they’re flying off his face. “Don’t - don’t _trust_ you? Kid, I - shit - Reid. Spencer. Of course I trust you.”

“Do you, though?” asks Reid quietly.

“Look - I trust you with _my_ back completely. Hundred percent, you know I do. I just don’t always know if I should trust you with your _own_ back.”

Spencer huffs, crossing his arms in front of him. “Why does it matter so much to you? _I’m_ comfortable with what I’m doing, so-”

“See, that right there is the problem,” Morgan cuts him off. “I _care_ about you, pretty boy, alright? You shouldn’t be comfortable with what you’re doing because you keep getting yourself in these situations where you’d be a lot worse off if I hadn’t shown up when I did.”

Reid’s eyes flick up to meet Morgan’s. “That’s happened to everyone else on our team at _least_ three times, and I don’t see you telling them to be more careful.”

“Yeah, but - I don’t care about them like I care about you. Okay?”

Reid opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out and his eyes widen slightly. Morgan’s chest tightens and he wonders if he’s getting through to the other man at all.

Eventually, Reid stammers, “P-plus, they - they all care about me too, right? No one else has tried to give me a talk like this. I can take care of myself, Derek, I promise. You don’t have to worry.”

Morgan can’t help but laugh for multiple reasons, and it comes out low and rumbly. He watches as Spencer worries his bottom lip between his teeth and feels a tug of heat in his stomach before quickly getting himself back under control.

“First of all, I think we both know the only time I’m not constantly worried about all of you is when I’m asleep, and even then I sometimes have nightmares so that’s off the table too,” he starts. At first he isn’t sure if he wants to continue, but then he decides that Reid needs extra reassurance right now. “And I sure hope Rossi doesn’t care about you the same way I care about you. That’d be creepy.”

It startles a laugh out of Reid at first but leaves a blush high on his cheeks in its wake. Morgan grins.

“Okay, I guess I get it,” Reid says quietly after a moment of companionable silence. “It just feels a bit like being babied, that’s all. I understand it, but I don’t appreciate it.”

Morgan rolls his eyes, scoffing, and just like that they’re back to arguing. “No, if - if you _understood_ it, you’d stop putting yourself in those situations, Reid.”

“Shockingly, this job doesn’t give me an overabundance of control over high-risk hostage situations, Morgan,” Reid snaps back.

Morgan takes a couple of steps toward him and says, “Then just use your sidearm more, _Jesus._ How’d you lose it, anyway?”

“I lost it when he tackled me,” Spencer mutters, like it pains him to say it. “Listen, it could’ve happened to anyone and you’re making me feel like a child, so if we could just go to bed…” He trails off, looking back up and seemingly realizing that Morgan is much closer to him than before. He swallows loudly, his Adam’s apple bobbing along the column of his pale throat. “And could you put a shirt on, please?”

"Why, don't like what you see?" Derek teases, pouting in a way that he hopes might diffuse the tension.

Instead, Spencer's eyes go wide and the tension in the room skyrockets, morphs into something else entirely. Derek sees it in the way Spencer takes too long to answer, in the way his teeth sink harshly into his bottom lip, in the way his eyes flit down and back up so fast Derek would've missed it if he wasn't watching.

_Oh._

Reid _does_ like what he sees. That's the problem, it's _distracting_ him _._

Looking back at Reid's face, it's easy to tell that he knows Morgan's figured it out. Fear splashes across his eyes and he starts to stammer, "No, I'm-"

“Hey,” Morgan cuts him off, his voice barely a whisper. “Hey, shh, it’s okay.”

Reid shakes his head frantically. He looks panicked, and Derek realizes that there’s no going back from here, not really. Their friendship has just been unavoidably altered and Reid is going to act weird around him for at least the next month because that’s how Reid operates.

That’s how Morgan rationalizes his next move later, to himself - after all, if their friendship just got a little bit fucked up anyway, why not fuck it up a little bit more in the process of assuring Reid that he isn’t bothered?

“M-Morgan?” Reid stammers. He brings his hand up to touch Derek’s, which is cupping his cheek tenderly.

“Hey,” Morgan says again. “I promise I don’t mind.”

Spencer gulps. “Yeah, but - oh god, I’m sorry, I haven’t been thinking straight since you said you cared about me differently than you did anyone else and I know I’m overthinking things because that’s what I do and now I’m probably making you uncomfortable and we should just go to bed, I promise I’ll stay on my side-”

“Reid,” Morgan cuts him off. “Spencer.”

“What?”

Derek takes a deep breath. “Can I kiss you?”

_“What?”_

Morgan laughs softly as Reid’s cheek heats up beneath his palm. “I said, can I kiss you?”

It takes Reid a couple seconds to respond. “You - you _want_ to?”

“Yeah, baby. Is that a yes?”

For once in his life, Dr. Spencer Reid seems lost for words, but he nods minutely a couple of times, his hand sweaty where it’s covering Derek’s.

Morgan leans forward, his heart beating so loudly in his ears he’s struggling to hear anything else. But as his eyes slip closed and he presses his lips to Reid’s, his ears pick up a quiet whimper. Derek isn’t sure if Spencer even _knows_ he just made that sound, but it makes the older man possessive enough to place his other hand on Reid’s back, hauling him closer as their mouths slide together.

Reid’s lips are full and warm, and Morgan takes great pleasure in nibbling and sucking on his lush bottom lip until Reid moans and kisses the corner of his mouth, then responds in kind by sucking Morgan’s top lip into his mouth. Derek groans, moving his hand from Reid’s cheek up to tangle it in his messy hair.

The rest of Spencer’s body might be warm, but his hands are freezing, which Derek discovers when the other man moans again and wraps both his arms around Derek’s neck. Morgan hisses and pulls back, an instinctive move against the two large ice cubes now pressed to his shoulders.

“What happened?” Reid asks, sounding a bit dazed. “Did I do something wrong?”

Morgan looks at him. His lips look bitten red and puffy already, his face flushed, and the blush is starting to spread down to his chest, where his collarbone peeks out of his pajama top. He looks _gorgeous,_ and since Morgan’s still holding onto him he hauls him back in close, kisses him once _hard_ and murmurs, “Nothing's wrong, baby. Come here,” against his lips.

The next time Spencer moans, Derek takes advantage of it and slips his tongue into the other man's mouth. Reid clutches harder at the back of his neck, digging his nails in a bit and making Morgan hiss as shivers travel down his spine. It's good, it's _so good_ \- he tastes sweet, like peppermint candy, and Morgan clutches at the crisp fabric of his pajama shirt, groaning quietly when Spencer sucks tentatively on his tongue.

Then the kiss deepens even further and, _shit,_ Derek didn't think they would get this far, he swears he only meant for this to be a gentle reassurance to Spencer that the feeling - the attraction - was mutual. _Now_ look where they are. He's got an armful of genius, one hand tangled in Spencer's long, damp hair (and it's gonna look so _good_ after this, Derek knows, so goddamn good and messy and all because of him), the other hand holding onto one half of a _matching fucking pajama set_ like his life depends on it, and his tongue down the kid's throat.

Reid moans again, one of his hands sliding up until his blunt fingernails are scratching helplessly against Morgan's close-shaven head. It sends shivers running through him, tearing a growl from his throat as he uses the hand he has in Reid's hair to tilt the younger man's head at a better angle.

Derek had thought they were already pressed as close together as they could possibly be, but when they finally close that last inch between them and their hips fit together, Derek's brain shorts out and Reid whimpers a soft _Oh_ against his lips. Fuck.

"Pretty boy," Derek mumbles mindlessly into the kiss. "So damn pretty."

He feels Spencer smile, that sweet mouth stretched wide for a second before pulling back entirely as Morgan makes an unhappy sound.

"Wait, wait," Reid stammers, looking dazed.

"This okay?"

Reid nods quickly. "Yeah, it's - it's great, and 'okay' is far too dispassionate of a word to describe this. I just need to take my glasses off."

"Oh." Morgan suddenly remembers that Spencer's been wearing his glasses this whole time, and as he looks at them now he realizes that they're all fogged up and smudged. Whoops.

Even _that_ doesn't manage to kill the mood, though, and as Reid darts over to the bedside table to take his glasses off, Morgan realizes with a jolt that he's gotten half-hard in his sweats just from them kissing. He reaches down to adjust himself and wonders if the kid's having the same problem. It doesn't _look_ like it, but then again Spencer's front is twisted away from him as he carefully takes off his glasses and puts them in their travel case.

But as Reid straightens back up, he turns a bit and it turns out those thin, loose pajama bottoms really don’t hide anything. He’s got the same situation in his pants that Morgan does, _fuck,_ and before Morgan even knows what he’s doing he’s got the younger man crowded against the wall, tasting those plush lips once more.

They’re able to fit even closer together without Spencer’s glasses in the way, and Morgan feels a pair of hands settle tentatively on his lower back, long fingers trembling against his skin. He uses both of his hands to cup Reid’s face, smoothing his thumbs over Reid’s cheekbones and moaning as the other man bites at his lower lip.

“Pretty boy’s a biter,” Derek mutters. “Who would’ve thought?”

Reid laughs quietly, then moans in surprise as Morgan eases a thigh between his legs, their bodies slotting together. The kiss is addicting, and Derek feels like he’s drowning in it - except instead of fear, there’s just exhilaration and disbelief washing over him in waves. He didn’t expect it to be this good. He didn’t expect _it_ to even _happen,_ actually, but now that it is, his brain’s kind of melting out his ears.

Derek presses forward more firmly, tilting his head to deepen the kiss and fighting down a growl when he feels Reid hard against his thigh. He can’t bear the thought of tearing himself away from Spencer’s mouth for even one second to ask how far he wants to take this, but Reid answers that question for him a moment later by tentatively thrusting his hips up and then moaning around Morgan’s tongue. _Oh._

“Mmm,” Spencer sighs, his grip on Morgan’s waist tightening when the larger man ruts forward in response. “Oh, god-”

“God, do that again,” Morgan encourages him. He drops a hand to Reid’s slim waist, hissing in pleasure when his hips work forward once more. “Yeah, baby, just like that.”

He breaks away from Spencer’s mouth entirely to kiss up his jawline.

“Morgan-”

“Derek,” Derek insists, kissing right below Reid’s ear and then tonguing at his earlobe hotly.

“Derek,” Spencer repeats. Then he laughs softly. “God, that feels weird to say out loud.”

Morgan squeezes his hip. “In case you haven’t noticed, this whole thing we’re doing is weird.” He feels Reid deflate a little. “Not that that’s a bad thing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I am, _Spencer,”_ says Derek, noting how weird it feels for Reid’s first name to roll off his tongue. He bites down right below Reid’s ear to distract himself, sucking a light mark, and Reid’s back arches as he lets out an obscenely loud moan. God, is that a sweet spot, or is Spencer just that responsive?

Morgan licks down his neck, kissing at the soft skin as he grinds their hips together again. This time Reid digs his fingernails in, little pinpricks stinging at the small of Morgan’s back in the most delicious way, and it's not too hard for Morgan's imagination to wander further, to Reid clawing at his back as Morgan thrusts inside him.

"Fuck," he mutters against Spencer's throat. His cock twitches in his sweats, hard and heavy as he ruts against Reid's thigh.

Reid's head falls back against the wall with a light _thunk_ when Derek nibbles at his collarbone, pushing his pajama top out of the way to get access to more of that creamy pale skin. He reaches up with one hand and clutches desperately at the back of Derek's head, fingers trembling like he wishes there was hair to pull on.

Speaking of hair, Derek slides his hand up from Spencer's cheek to thread his fingers through his damp, tangled mess of hair, tugging his head gently to one side so his mouth has more room to wander. Reid goes _crazy_ at that, his hips rocking forward as he pushes his head against Morgan's hold and chokes out a groan.

"You like having your hair pulled?" Derek murmurs.

"N-no."

He laughs quietly. "You're a terrible liar, you know that, right?"

Morgan straightens back up and captures Spencer's mouth with his own before the other man has the chance to reply. Reid hums, a pleased little noise that Morgan swallows up as he gently fucks his tongue into his mouth, and squirms in Morgan's hold, trapped between the larger man and the wall.

Derek's resolve finally snaps when Spencer thrusts forward again, his dick coming obscenely close to brushing against Derek's. He grunts in frustration, stepping back a little but only so he can fit a hand between them and palm Reid's cock.

"Oh god," Reid chokes out.

"This okay?" Morgan asks, feeling out the shape of him through the thin pajama bottoms.

"Yeah. Is this - is this actually happening or am I dreaming? _Nnn,_ oh, because usually my dreams aren't this vivid and you don't ask nicely for anything, you just hold me down and take what you want-"

 _"Jesus,"_ Derek hisses. "This isn't a dream, but you got me curious now, baby."

He rubs Spencer through his pants, his thumb seeking out the head of his cock and discovering that the fabric's already damp with precome. God, this kid's gonna kill him. He dips back in for another kiss as his fingers creep toward Reid's waistband.

He feels out the tiny, fine trail of hair leading under the pajama bottoms, thumbing at the waistband before slipping just his fingertips underneath. Reid moans loudly and jerks his hips up into the contact, kissing Morgan even more desperately as he shudders under his touch. Spencer's skin is warm to the touch, electric under Derek's hands, and he finds himself holding his breath as he inches his fingers downward.

He could've guessed that Spencer wasn't wearing underwear from the fact that his pajama bottoms were wet with precome, but it's still a shock for Derek's hand to feel him bare, hot and hard and leaking without any more fabric separating them. He makes a low noise in his throat, tugs on Reid's hair a little as he pushes the elastic waistband of the pajama bottoms down out of the way.

Reid bites his lip then breaks the kiss with a gasp at the first slow pull of Derek's hand, and the hand on Derek's neck flies down to join the other one clawing at his back. Morgan groans and looks down in between them, feeling his own dick twitch as he watches the pink, flushed head of Spencer's cock disappearing over and over into his fist.

"Oh my god," Spencer breathes, his whole body jerking when Derek tightens his grip. The next glide of his fist feels even slicker.

When Morgan twists his wrist experimentally, a strained noise tears from Reid's throat and he drops both his hands to squeeze Morgan's ass through his sweatpants.

 _"Oh,_ yeah, you like that?" Derek murmurs triumphantly.

Reid squeezes his ass lightly in reply, making both of them laugh quietly before Morgan picks up the pace of his hand and leans back in to kiss the other man senseless once more.

It isn't long before Derek's back to rolling his hips forward, this time letting Reid set the pace with his hands on his ass. This makes his arm in between them kind of cramped, but it's completely worth it to hear all the soft, breathy noises Spencer's making in response. Fuck, his cock is so _wet,_ flushing and turning an ever deeper red color in Morgan's dark hand when he breaks away to look in between them.

"More," Spencer whispers, "more, god, please..."

When Derek does as asked and speeds up his hand even more, though, Reid pushes him away when he tries to kiss him again - only to start working at the buttons of his collared pajama shirt.

"You're way too coordinated - _fuck -_ for someone getting a handjob," Morgan grunts, already missing the other man's hands on his ass.

Spencer giggles, and it turns into a moan halfway through. "I need to - get this - _uhhn,_ please - off, I don't want to get it messy, oh _god-"_

"Fuck, that's so hot," Derek marvels. "Here, pretty boy, I'll race you."

He starts moving his hand even faster, pulling out every trick he knows in an effort to surprise Spencer with his orgasm. Reid's face crumples in pleasure, his mouth dropping open as his fingers shake and fumble at the third button.

"Morgan, you're such a jerk-"

"Derek."

 _"Derek,_ you're a fucking _jerk,_ oh my god-"

Morgan laughs, rubbing his thumb over the leaking head as Reid finally gets the third button open and frantically moves on to the fourth. This might be a little _too_ mean, but he tugs on Spencer's hair just to see what happens.

"No no _no_ , god, I hate you, I hate you so much-"

"No you don't," Morgan sings, leaning past Spencer's shaking arms to plant a kiss on the other man's slack mouth.

"Then just give me a _second,_ Derek _please,_ I'm - oh, I'm-"

"Yeah?" Derek murmurs, just as Reid gets the fifth and final button open, desperately trying to pull his arm out of the sleeve. "Am I gonna make you come?"

"Oh my god," Reid moans, half-giggling as his hips start to jerk up helplessly. "Ohhhh, _ohh-"_

And he comes just like that, clapping a hand over his mouth as his back arches and his cock starts to spurt in Derek's hand. Most of it lands on his stomach and chest, newly bared to Morgan's greedy eyes, but his face is hands-down the best part. Derek's never seen Spencer look so blissed-out, his face open and so, so young, and he wishes he had a photographic memory so he could close his eyes and see Spencer mid-orgasm whenever he wants.

As Reid comes down, Morgan pushes his hand away from his mouth and replaces it with his lips instead. Spencer's loose, pliant now that he's come, and he shudders one more time in Derek's arms before making a noise of discomfort and twitching his hips away from Derek's hand.

"Holy shit," Derek mumbles against his lips.

Spencer nods, relaxing a moment before declaring, "Your turn."

"Kid, you don't have to - oh, _fuck."_

Spencer doesn't pull him out of his sweats, but Derek's so embarrassingly close to the edge just from watching his pretty boy come that it takes less than thirty seconds until he's swearing and pressing his forehead to Spencer's as he comes all over the other man's nimble fingers.

They can't stop kissing afterward, even as Morgan steps out of his ruined sweats and Reid shrugs his pajama shirt to the floor. He has no concept of what time it is and he finds that he doesn't care.

A little while later, Morgan says, "I swear that's not what I had planned when I asked if I could kiss you."

Reid laughs and gestures to his come-covered stomach. "I don't know if it's obvious, but I didn't exactly mind." He's looking in between them now, at Derek's softening cock still in his hand. "Geez, you're big."

"Better believe it, baby," Morgan purrs.

"God, you are the absolute worst," Reid laughs as Morgan dances away from the playful slap aimed at his chest.

They clean up in the bathroom together; they don't really talk, but the silence isn't awkward, it's amicable and still a little bit charged with tension. Morgan finishes up first, so he heads out into the bedroom to pull on a fresh pair of boxers then flops onto the bed.

When Reid comes out of the bathroom wearing only the thin blue pajama bottoms, he looks pink-cheeked and embarrassed, like the minute he spent alone in the bathroom was enough time to second-guess what just happened. Derek's having none of it.

"C'mere, kid," he urges, stretching out on the bed and patting the space next to him.

"You just jerked me off and you _still_ insist on calling me kid?" Spencer asks, even as he complies and snuggles up next to Derek.

Derek clears his throat and tries again. "Well then, come here, Doctor Spencer Reid."

"Nooo, that makes you sound like Hotch," Reid whines, making both of them laugh and then shudder as Morgan pulls the covers up over them. "You could've just said, um, pretty boy. I don't mind that."

"You don't?" Morgan asks with a grin.

Spencer shakes his head. “I kind of like it, actually.”

Derek pulls him closer and kisses him deeply one last time before reaching over to turn out the light.

“Is this going to be weird now? I don’t want it to get uncomfortable,” Reid says hesitantly after a minute or two of silence.

“How about we talk about it in the morning, okay?” Derek asks, turning them both onto their sides so he can spoon the younger man. “We’re only gonna get, like, three hours of sleep as it is.”

Spencer makes a small noise that Derek’s unable to interpret and says, “Okay.”

Derek’s always been extremely good at compartmentalizing things, so he falls asleep relatively quickly, knowing that whatever’s going to happen will still be there to happen in the morning.

xxx

Three hours later, Derek wakes up flat on his back with Spencer sprawled across his chest, his hair so tangled a bird could nest in it, his pale arms contrasting with the dark chest he’s sleeping on. He’s nuzzled up so that the top of his head is butted against Derek’s chin, and when Morgan shifts to try to get a look at Reid’s face, Reid makes an unhappy sound and snuggles closer in his sleep.

Oh, _god._

Derek might be good at compartmentalizing things, but even he can’t ignore how extremely, thoroughly fucked he is.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David Rossi isn't an idiot.

Spencer wakes slowly, sprawled on something warm and comfortable as a voice calls his name, a hand stroking down his back gently. 

"Pretty boy... Reid, wake up..."

"Nope," Reid mumbles. "No thanks."

"Spencer Reid, this is your superior Aaron Hotchner speaking-"

"Whoa whoa whoa, _what?_ " Reid's sitting up in a flash, sheets falling down his naked torso as he rubs at his eyes in a panic.

But when he finally opens them, all he sees is a very amused (and very naked) Derek Morgan, causing all of the memories from last night to flood back to him in one eidetic surge.

Morgan bursts into laughter when he sees the look on Spencer's face. "I got you good, didn't I, kid?"

Reid figures there's no use denying it, so he says, "You had me thinking I slept with my boss, but it turns out I just slept with my coworker."

 _"Ouch,"_ Morgan says, pretending to slap himself in the face. "Last night I was your best friend and now I'm downgraded to your coworker?"

Spencer nods, attempting to keep a straight face and failing after a couple of seconds as he bursts into laughter. Derek follows.

"C'mere," he encourages Spencer, holding his arms out. "Don't tell me you're too proud to cuddle, now."

"I'm not too - hey!" Reid yelps as he's tugged back down to the bed. "What time is it, anyway?"

"Almost seven," says Derek, making a happy noise in his throat when Spencer snuggles closer. “We’re supposed to leave the hotel at eight.”

Reid frowns and drums his fingers on the hard planes of Morgan’s abs. He’s always admired them from afar, but thanks to this weird, surprisingly natural morning-after-mutual-orgasms limbo they’re in, he can now appreciate them more tangibly. “Why’d you wake me up this early, then? Usually I set an alarm for half an hour before we have to leave.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on it at first,” Morgan says, “but you looked so good sleepin’ on top of me that I figured maybe we could pick up where we left off last night.”

A flush of heat rolls through Spencer’s body at the words, and he tilts his head up to look Derek in the eyes and try to gauge if he’s being serious.

“I don’t think of myself as a very attractive person in general, much less in the morning,” he says honestly.

Morgan frowns. “You’re kidding.”

Reid shakes his head.

“You know, there’s a reason I call you pretty boy,” Morgan says with a small smile. He runs his fingers through Spencer’s hair, evidently giving up at all the tangles after a few seconds when he settles his hand and starts scratching at Reid’s scalp. It feels really, really nice.

“Do you really want to keep doing… what we were doing last night?” Reid asks.

Derek's face is unreadable for a moment, and then he shrugs. "Only if you want to, but - yeah. I liked it, it felt good. _You_ felt good."

Oh, god.

There are about a dozen more questions flitting around in Spencer’s head, but he’s worried he might put Morgan off of the whole thing if he asks anything else in that obviously annoying way of his. Instead, he just nods, swallowing around his suddenly dry throat and wetting his lips.

Derek’s eyes track the movement of his tongue, and Reid swallows again, suddenly feeling nervous that he’s screwed things up anyway.

Of course, he realizes in the next moment that he’s done the _opposite_ of screw things up when Morgan makes a low noise and roughly presses their mouths together. The hand in Reid’s hair tightens and he moans, melting against the older man easily as a tiny voice in his head asks him why this feels so _natural._ Derek’s other hand settles warm and reassuring on Reid’s back, and he brushes his thumb over his shoulderblade in a way that almost tickles, making Spencer gasp quietly against his lips-

-and that’s when his brain kicks back in and helpfully reminds him that the average human’s population of oral bacteria approximately doubles every three hours they’re asleep.

“Wait wait wait,” Reid mumbles, drawing back and nearly whimpering when he sees how inviting Morgan looks spread out against the white sheets. “I have to brush my teeth.”

Derek raises an eyebrow. “We were barely asleep long enough to get morning breath, kid.”

“It’s not that, it’s just the idea of all that bacteria that I don’t like,” Spencer explains as he climbs off the bed and rubs at his eyes. “When you’re asleep, you don’t perform most of the natural motions your body’s evolved to keep the bacterial levels in your mouth at bay, so the average population of 20 billion bacteria ends up doubling to 40 billion after three-”

“Okay, okay, I get the picture,” Derek grumbles, running his tongue over his teeth in dismay as he gets out of bed and stretches.

“Sorry,” Reid says quietly.

Morgan laughs. “What’re you apologizing for? That’s why they invented toothbrushes.”

He jogs into the bathroom and smacks Reid’s ass on the way by, making Spencer yelp.

Reid shuffles into the bathroom after him, failing to hide his smile when Morgan waggles his eyebrows at him in the mirror. As he squeezes paste onto his toothbrush, he slowly starts to realize that the awkward confrontation he was half-expecting really isn’t going to happen - that the man brushing his teeth next to him is his _best friend,_ and that they’re so close it apparently takes more than a few handjobs to make things uncomfortable between them.

That’s a good thing, right? That’s probably a good thing.

Morgan finishes first, rinsing his mouth out a couple of times and putting his toothbrush away. Reid watches in the mirror as Morgan moves behind him and wraps his arms around his waist. Spencer’s hand shakes and he nearly spits out his mouthful of toothpaste foam when warm lips press against his neck, day-old stubble scraping against his skin as Derek mouths along the line of his throat. It’s almost indecent to watch in the mirror - Reid can see the way his blush is starting to spread down to his chest, his pale skin flushed, and further down he sees Morgan’s dark hands digging ever-so-slightly into his pale stomach.

He whimpers around the toothbrush, his mouth going lax as Derek presses him up against the counter, muscled chest searing heat into Reid’s bare back. Spencer’s free hand drops down and covers Derek’s and, as their eyes meet in the mirror, Reid feels like his heart’s going to beat right out of his chest. Weren’t they just innocently brushing their teeth side-by-side a second ago?

“God, baby, you’re killin’ me,” Derek mumbles into his skin, tongue flicking out to tease Reid’s pulse point. “You almost done?”

That kicks Spencer back into action, and he nods enthusiastically as he starts to rinse his toothbrush off. Morgan laughs, gripping his waist a little tighter, and Spencer gasps when he leans down to rinse his mouth out and feels Derek getting hard against his ass. He nearly chokes on a mouthful of water when his mind helpfully reminds him that they could - they could _fuck_ like this, couldn’t they, right in front of a mirror with Spencer bent over the counter, and Reid’s never felt so frantic as he straightens up and turns around in one quick motion, desperate to have Morgan’s mouth again as he drags the other man closer.

Now that he doesn’t have to worry about bacteria, Spencer loses himself in the feel of Derek’s lips on his own, gentle yet insistent his tongue teases Reid’s mouth apart. His neck is still tingling from Morgan’s kisses, and Reid’s head spins trying to figure out what he wants next, because he wants _everything_ all at once. He shifts just a little, but the small motion is enough to allow Morgan’s thigh to slip between his own - and pressed up against the counter like this, Spencer’s helpless against the urge to rock forward, his clothed cock already semi-hard trapped against Derek’s leg.

“Fuck,” Derek mutters, his hands teasing against the dip right above Reid’s ass.

Reid isn’t sure what to do with his own hands, too preoccupied with the way Morgan’s sucking on his lower lip, but eventually he settles them on Derek’s biceps, squeezing appreciatively at those ridiculous, ridiculous muscles. Morgan makes a low noise and drops one of his hands to palm at Reid’s thigh, just rubbing there for a few seconds before getting a good grip and hiking Spencer’s leg up.

 _“Oh,”_ Reid moans, wrapping his leg around Derek's waist at the other man's encouragement. It feels so much more intimate like this, like if they shifted a little and were both naked they could be - Derek could be - _god._

He wraps his arms around Morgan's neck instead, scratching his nails lightly over his shoulders because he remembers Morgan liked that last night. Derek groans, deepening the kiss and rocking forward to rub their hard cocks together, and Spencer wonders if this is going to end up being a repeat of last night.

That is, until Morgan's other hand snakes between them to pinch curiously at Reid's nipple.

Spencer cries out, his back arching at the unexpected contact, and digs his nails into Morgan's shoulders when he repeats the motion.

"Jesus," says Morgan, sounding impressed. Spencer nips at his bottom lip as he continues, "You really sensitive?"

Reid nods, not trusting himself to speak.

"Does it hurt?"

Reid scoffs. "God, no-"

They're interrupted by the shrill sound of an alarm from the bedroom.

"That's mine," Morgan says, cursing quietly before detaching himself and leaving Spencer alone in the bathroom, suddenly feeling quite cold without the other man pressed up against him.

He wraps his arms around himself, looking down at the ridiculous way his cock is tenting his pajama bottoms.

When Morgan comes back into the bathroom, he says, "It's 7:20."

Reid hums. "We still have some time."

"Too true," Derek grins, swooping back in for another deep kiss. It turns filthy fast, and Spencer can't resist cupping the other man's cheek, feeling over his sharp jawline and stubbled skin. Before they can resume their position against the counter, though, Morgan asks, "Wanna take a shower together, baby?"

Reid's whole body thrums with heat. He’s never showered with anybody else before, but it’s always sounded so _nice._ “Do you think we have time?”

“Depends on what we do in there,” Derek purrs, sneakily pinching both of Reid’s nipples and making him squeak.

Spencer buries his face in Derek’s neck in embarrassment, biting down to muffle his moans at having his nipples played with. Morgan groans as soon as Reid bites at his neck, though, and hauls him back up to kiss him again. Maybe Spencer just found one of Morgan’s weak spots, he thinks, and it might be useful information for later.

“I don’t know if - I can stop - kissing you - long enough to - get in the - shower,” Reid gets out between kisses.

Morgan laughs. “Me neither. Have you _seen_ your lips?”

“Not recently.”

“Mmm,” Morgan hums, pulling back and thumbing over Spencer’s mouth. “You’re gonna have to ice ‘em or something after this, I swear.”

“That’s definitely not my fault,” Spencer says with a grin. He sucks just the tip of Morgan’s thumb into his mouth and watches as the other man’s eyes darken; his breath catches in his throat at the sight, and Reid quickly releases the digit and asks, “You were - um - saying something about a shower?”

“Yeah, c’mon.”

Next thing Reid knows Morgan’s gripping him tightly around the waist and lifting him bodily off the ground.

“Derek, put me down-”

“Just speeding things up a bit,” Derek grins, pecking Spencer lightly on the lips before setting him down by the shower.

Reid reaches over and turns on the water, adjusting the faucet until the spray’s nice and warm. Then he fingers at the waistband of his pajama bottoms, biting his lip before asking, “So are we going to shower like this, or-”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Derek shrugs, looping his fingers through the waistband of his boxers before pulling them down in one fluid motion.

Reid gasps, one of his hands actually coming up to cover his mouth, because - _wow._ He’d felt the entire hard length of Derek’s cock yesterday, but he hadn’t seen it at its, um, full potential like he’s seeing it now, and it makes heat thrum inside him as his own cock twitches in his pants. He tries to say something but all that comes out is a quiet croak, so instead he throws himself at Morgan in a way that he definitely isn’t proud of, wrapping his arms around Morgan’s neck and kissing him frantically.

They work together to get Spencer’s pants off, and when the cotton material has pooled at his feet they stumble into the shower together, still attached at the lips. This time Reid’s the one shoving Morgan against the wall once they’re inside, and he reaches back to blindly feel around for the shower door so he can close it and shroud them both in steam.

“Damn, you like your showers hot,” Morgan mutters against his lips.

Reid raises an eyebrow. “This isn’t even as hot as I usually take them.”

“Jesus,” says Derek, snaking both of his hands down to palm Spencer’s ass. They both moan at the same time and Morgan squeezes a little, moans again as he rubs his thumbs over the bottom of Reid’s spine.

“Do you - d-do you want me to turn it down?” Reid stammers out, distracted by the large hands cupping his asscheeks.

Derek nods, nipping at his bottom lip and muttering “Sorry” apologetically.

Spencer pulls reluctantly out of his hold and turns to adjust the water temperature; when he turns back around, Morgan has a bottle of shower gel in his hands and a huge grin on his face. “I’m not gonna lie, I kinda want to soap you down, pretty boy.”

“Can this be a reciprocal situation?”

“‘Course,” Derek laughs, leaning forward for a light kiss.

As Morgan pours shower gel into both of their hands, Reid remembers something that may or may not be important. “We never finished our fight yesterday.”

Derek raises an eyebrow. “And… you _want_ to? Right now?”

“Not really,” says Reid, now too preoccupied with soaping up Morgan’s delicious abs. He still can’t believe he gets to _touch_ them like this. “I just get a little self-conscious about how often I end up in those kinds of situations.”

“I mean, I was kind of being a dick, too,” Morgan admits, rubbing up and down Reid’s arms before moving to his chest.

Then he pinches Spencer’s nipples, and all bets are off as Reid shudders then slaps his hands away, sending soap bubbles flying everywhere.

“You’re awful,” he tells Derek, trying to go for his nipples in retaliation but failing as Morgan blocks every attempt. “I thought we were having a moment.”

“We’re still having a moment, baby,” Morgan insists. He wraps his big, soapy arms around Spencer and pulls him in close, rubbing over his back with slick hands. “And I’m sorry. I know you can handle yourself, you just have you idea how scary that big needle looked pointed at your back.”

“Mmm,” Reid agrees, tucking his head into Morgan’s neck. The other man’s hands feel so, so nice. “I’m here now, though.”

“Damn right,” says Morgan. His hands slide lower and lower still. “Thank god you’re still in one piece.”

His hands settle on the rounded cheeks of Spencer’s ass and the younger man gasps, pushing back slightly and biting his lip when Derek’s soapy fingers press in between to get a better grip. Spencer pulls his head back to look at Derek, his mouth opening like he’s about to speak but a moan coming out instead.

“Okay?” Morgan asks.

“Yeah,” Reid breathes. “It’s - nnh - good I’m still in one piece, I know.”

Derek laughs. “Mmm, and now I get to touch every inch.”

He squeezes one last time before slipping out of Reid’s hold, stepping behind him and gently nudging him forward until Spencer has no choice but to brace his hands on the wall. His breath is coming fast in anticipation, the steam in the shower doing nothing to soothe him.

Spencer feels lips on his neck, kissing the wet skin there before sucking lightly and tearing a whine from his throat. Derek’s hands settle on his hips, and just for a second Reid feels the knowing press of Morgan’s cock against his ass before it’s gone as the lips travel further down his spine.

"Saw him pressing up right here," Derek murmurs, kissing lower still and then sucking hard on the middle of Spencer's lower back.

Reid moans, his fingers flexing uselessly against the slippery tile of the shower wall as he wonders what Morgan's planning. He hears a gentle thump and realizes that Morgan is kneeling down.

"Derek?" he asks quietly.

Reid turns around and glances down at the older man, who's tonguing the water droplets off his skin as Spencer's whole body tingles nervously. Derek looks up at him and grins, maintaining eye contact as he dips down and presses a kiss to Reid's ass cheek.

"O-oh my god," Spencer whimpers in shock. He instinctively reaches down with one hand to grip at Morgan's head, but the shaved surface doesn't provide any purchase and Reid ends up almost slipping on shaky legs as Morgan makes a low noise and sucks a bruise where his lips are pressed.

"Brace yourself on the wall, baby, I got you."

His voice is soothing and Spencer trusts him implicitly, so he turns back around, shivering when Morgan moves out of the way and the lukewarm shower spray is directed over his back.

"Aw, is a nice hot shower too cold for pretty boy?" Morgan teases.

Reid swats half heartedly at him and moves away from the spray, starting to turn back around and squeaking when Derek holds him in place with hands on his hips. "Shut up, it's definitely cold."

"Mmm," Morgan hums. "Does my mouth feel better?"

"Ve- _ry,"_ Reid squeaks, his voice skyrocketing in pitch when Derek _bites_ him, his hot tongue flicking out right after to soothe the spot. "Ow! Do other people _like_ when you do that to them? Because I distinctly don't remember asking you to - _ohmygod."_

Morgan moans, the sound muffled because he's buried his face between Spencer's cheeks and is _licking_ him there.

"Oh my god," Spencer repeats, his brain short-circuiting as Derek laps eagerly at his hole. _"Ohhhhh,_ my god-"

"Mmm," Derek groans, cutting him off. He slides his hands from Reid's hips down to his ass, pulling him apart so he can rub over his hole with the flat of his tongue.

No one's ever done this for Reid before and, up until fifteen seconds ago, he'd never understood why anyone would want this done to them - but now he really, really does. Morgan's tongue is hot and strong and insistent, painting little circles over him then transitioning to broad, deep licks that leave stubble burn on Reid's ass. Spencer wails and claps a hand over his mouth in surprise when Derek pushes his tongue just the tiniest bit inside, the tickling pressure sending all sorts of confusing sensations to Spencer's overstimulated brain.

"What are you - _oh,_ god, so good," he moans into his hand, embarrassed by how strongly he's reacting.

When Morgan comes up for air a little while later Reid keens in protest, bracing both hands on the wall once more as he cants his hips back. He looks behind him and sees no trace of amusement or disgust in Derek's eyes, just hunger that makes him feel hot all over.

"Spread your legs for me a little bit?" Derek asks quietly, kissing his left cheek as Reid watches.

Reid complies, then bites his lip hard when Morgan gets back to it, his eyebrows furrowing with concentration as pleasure flutters in Reid’s stomach. He turns back to face the wall, hanging his head in between his hands and panting open-mouthed as Derek points his tongue and starts pressing it rhythmically forward against the clenched ring of muscle.

“I - I-” Spencer can’t even put into words what he’s feeling, and his stuttering is clearly amusing to the other man, who chuckles and presses a sloppy kiss to his hole before continuing with his wicked tongue.

It’s - it can only be described as tongue-fucking, is the truth, and Reid gives a quiet sob of pleasure and turns to bite at his own bicep as Morgan presses his tongue deeper and deeper inside with each stroke. His big hands are holding Spencer in place and it feels so fucking _good_ that Spencer jerks his hips back and forth just to feel the satisfying way Morgan’s fingers dig into his ass, pulling him further apart and holding him against his mouth.

 _“Mmnn,_ oh, don’t stop,” Reid gasps, spreading his legs even further apart and feeling his cock jerk when Derek’s stubble scratches against him, _“please_ don’t stop, oh god-”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Morgan mumbles. He flicks his tongue out to tease against Reid’s slick hole, flutters it against him until Reid shivers and moans. “Wanna make you come like this.”

 _“Yes,”_ moans Spencer, his legs getting weaker by the second. “Ah, _ah-”_

He has to bite his hand again to stop his moans from echoing off the tiled walls of the shower, loud in the small space. Leaning heavily against the wall, Reid wishes he had a free hand that he could use to encourage the other man and hold him close. He has no idea what’s come over him; all he knows is that he never wants this to stop.

Morgan groans again, which feels amazing against Spencer’s sensitive entrance - god, it sounds like he really _likes_ doing this, and that makes the whole thing feel even better.

After a couple more minutes, Reid’s reached his breaking point. His cock’s so hard it’s bordering on painful, pressed up against the shower wall and absolutely drooling precome. As he sobs out another moan into his hand, Spencer can’t help but drop his other hand down and wrap it around his dick, even though that throws him off-balance and leaves him without a hand to cover his mouth.

“Close,” he gasps out, “so close, so close, _please-”_

“You’re so fucking hot,” Morgan growls from behind him. “Come on, baby boy, I got you.”

Spencer gets goosebumps all down his back from the pet name,and he whines as Derek sucks a messy kiss over his hole before pushing his tongue back inside. He speeds up his own hand on his cock, Derek’s words still ricocheting around in his head - baby boy, _baby boy-_

He cries out loudly and curls in on himself, Derek’s tongue following him insistently as he starts to come. Reid spurts messily all over the shower wall, spilling over his fingers and shaking on his feet when Morgan only licks in with more fervor.

Spencer comes back into awareness a few seconds later, realizing with a start that he blacked out briefly against the shower wall from how hard he just came. “Derek?"

"Fuck," Morgan breathes, staggering to his feet from the sound of it. When Reid starts to turn around, though, Morgan begs, "Stay just like that, please, baby."

Spencer does as he's asked, but becomes inexplicably jealous when he hears the slick sound of a hand working a cock behind him. _He_ wants to be the one touching Derek like that, not facing the wall like a useless-

 _"Ah,"_ Derek groans loudly, just before Reid feels something warm stripe over his ass.

When he realizes that Morgan's getting off on how he looks from behind, well, Reid feels slightly better about not being asked to participate. It makes him blush bright red as Morgan groans a few more times and pants out his name.

Eventually, a pair of strong arms wraps around his waist and Spencer finds himself tugged back into Derek's sturdy chest.

"That was... unexpected," Reid says slowly.

Derek hooks his chin over Spencer's shoulder. "Mmmm. Next time maybe it can be unexpected in a bed, though, my knees are killing me."

"Sorry," Reid says quickly. "Wait wait wait, next time?"

"Um, yeah," says Derek. He strokes his thumbs over Reid's stomach. "Unless you don't want to, I mean. I don't really eat ass platonically."

Spencer giggles at that, and once he starts he can't really stop, endorphins flooding him from the fantastic orgasm and generally unbelievable situation until he's full-on cracking up.

"What's so funny, pretty boy?" Morgan asks, a smile in his voice as he kisses Reid's neck.

Reid snorts and says, "Platonic analingus," which makes them both crack up like teenagers.

xxx

After they spare a minute to do the actual _cleansing_ part of their shower routines, the two men race around in a hurry to get dressed.

"What are we going to tell the team?" Reid asks in front of the sink, trying to get a comb through his hair as Morgan shaves.

Morgan raises his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"Well, they're going to notice that something's different," says Reid. "What do we tell them?"

"I don't think we tell them anything," Derek says. "It sounds like a bad idea."

Spencer frowns. "Why?"

"Well, think about it," says Derek, squeezing some toothpaste on his toothbrush. "There are rules against fraternization for a reason. Hotch would be required to report it, and Strauss has been looking for a reason to break the team up for a while. She thinks we're reckless together."

"She wouldn't break up the team just because we're..." Reid trails off, not knowing exactly what they actually _are_. Would it be worth Strauss’s possible wrath just to let the team know they’ve hooked up a couple of times? "Would she?"

"She's been trying to get me to transfer to a higher-level position on another team ever since the whole Reaper thing," Morgan says around the toothbrush in his mouth. "This might give her the leverage she needs to stop asking and start _ordering,_ you know? _"_

"Okay, so you.... you don't want to tell anyone about this."

"It's not that I don't want to, it's that I don't think we should," says Morgan. He rinses his mouth out then presses a minty kiss to Reid's cheek, and it’s reassuring to some degree. "Safety first, kid."

Reid scoffs. "We're going to have a fun time hiding this from a team of profilers."

"Hey, we're profilers too," Derek grins. "And you're smarter than the rest of us combined."

Spencer blushes. "That's not true."

"You know it is," Morgan insists, wrapping his arms around Reid and kissing up his jawline. "We're just gonna lay low for a while, is that alright?"

"Y-yeah," Reid stammers, breath catching in his throat as he glances in the mirror and sees what a pleasing picture they make together.

They’re pretty much the same height, but due to the differences in the way they dress, Morgan looks a lot larger in his bicep-hugging grey t-shirt compared to Spencer in his dress shirt and cardigan. Reid thinks it’s kind of nice; he hasn’t been with a guy (or, to be fair, a woman taller than six foot two) in a while, and he’d almost forgotten how much he likes feeling small. He also likes being pinned down to beds, which Morgan could _definitely_ do… wow, that’s a really nice thought...

Geez, they literally just got off in the shower together and already Spencer wants him again. He hasn't been this horny since grad school. He makes a soft noise in his throat, shifting in Morgan's hold and pressing his nose into the other man's throat.

"Just to clarify, laying low means none of _this_ right now, 'cause we've gotta get down to the lobby," Derek says, sounding like it pains him to say it. "And no jumping my bones on the plane either."

Reid _hmphs._ "What about after the plane?"

"That is definitely on the table, pretty boy," says Morgan. "Now give your hair a chance to dry normal so I can mess it up later, alright?"

Spencer grins, a spring in his step as he walks into the bedroom to get his suitcase ready.

xxx

Keeping this particular secret from the team is easier said than done, Derek quickly realizes.

For one thing, Reid is infinitely better than him at maintaining a poker face. The other glaringly awful component of the situation is none other than David Rossi.

"So I hear you two had an interesting morning," the seasoned profiler says on the quinjet, gesturing to Derek and Spencer sitting across from him.

Morgan chokes on his coffee.

"Come again?" Reid asks, face carefully neutral.

"Heard all sorts of interesting noises coming from your shower," Rossi says.

As Morgan flounders, Reid's the one who says, "Oh, it was the next chapter of our ongoing prank war."

"Oh my god, what did you guys do this time?" JJ asks with a smile.

Derek, who at this point has finally gotten over his initial shock, coolly explains, "I found a spider and threw it over the door while Reid was showering."

JJ gasps and Emily covers her mouth to mask a laugh. "Oh my god!"

"Now that makes sense," Rossi says, looking thoughtful. "Good going, kid, your yells were my alarm this morning."

Spencer's face is bright red; Derek has to fight down a smug smile as he remembers how nice Reid sounded when he was getting eaten out in the shower.

"If you need help thinking of revenge, Spence, I'm definitely available," JJ says with a shudder.

"Whatever it ends up being, keep it out of the bullpen," Hotch says with a small smile as he fills out some paperwork.

Reid swallows. "Duly noted."

“Chili powder in the boxer-briefs was a classic when I was in college,” Prentiss puts in.

“Y’all stay the hell outta my underwear,” Morgan warns the laughing group.

“We can ask Garcia, maybe she’ll help us out,” JJ stage-whispers to the rest of them.

Derek shakes his head. “My babygirl’s too loyal to me for any of that shit.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” says Reid. “She does know how afraid of spiders I am, and she’s very protective of me, so....”

“That’s true, that’s true,” says Emily. “We can take advantage of her mama-bear instincts. Morgan won’t stand a chance.”

“Settle down, children,” Hotch tells them as they all start to argue. Rossi just looks on, amused at what he’s started. “Maybe try catching up on all the sleep you didn’t get for the past week.”

His stern expression and the bags under his eyes leave no room for argument.

As most of them settle in for a nap, Derek catches Rossi's eye and startles when the older man _winks_ at him. But when Morgan opens his mouth to ask a question, Rossi places a finger to his lips, then twists it like he's turning a key.

Well then.

Rossi closes his eyes and tips his seat back, clearly not interested in discussing that any further, so Derek turns his focus next to him as Spencer tries to get comfortable with his cardigan as a pillow.

"Here," he says, tugging his FBI jacket out of his bag and handing it to the younger agent. Reid's probably going to get cold at some point if he's one layer short, that's all.

"Thanks," Reid says gratefully. He takes it with a smile and spreads it out over himself as a blanket, and soon every member of their team is fast asleep.

xxx

Morgan decides not to bring it up at all with Rossi when they get back to the bullpen, citing something about plausible deniability in his tired brain as he and Reid grab their jackets and walk out together. By itself, it's not an uncommon situation, but what _is_ uncommon is their quiet, hushed agreement in the parking garage to both drive to Morgan's house.

Even _that's_ not _completely_ unheard of, but the way a pink-cheeked Reid drops to his knees in front of Morgan just inside the entryway to his house is completely new. Derek didn't expect anything _close_ to this when he first kissed his pretty genius last night, but as Spencer fumbles with his zipper and licks his lips in anticipation, Morgan thinks he could definitely get used to this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer and Derek graduate to Best-Friends-Who-Are-Also-Dating status.

"Jesus, Spencer," Derek breathes, watching in awe as his spent cock slips from Spencer's wet mouth. If he'd thought Reid's lips looked obscene after kissing, it's nothing compared to the way they're red and swollen now.

_Fuck._

"Was that alright?" Reid asks, eyes wide.

His voice is _wrecked,_ scratchy, and he clears his throat twice as Morgan notices the smudge of come in the corner of his mouth. Oh god, this kid's gonna kill him.

Morgan laughs. "What do you think?"

Spencer blushes. "I just, um, I hadn't done that in a while. I was worried I might be out of practice."

"Look, I don't know how much practice you're used to, but I normally pride myself on lasting more than ten minutes. C'mere," Derek encourages him, pulling the younger man to his feet.

He reaches out and rubs a thumb over Reid's mouth before pushing it gently between his lips, drawing a moan from Reid as he sucks lazily on Morgan's thumb and tastes the come that he missed.

Derek makes a low noise in his throat and surges forward, tugging his thumb out from between Spencer's lips only to replace it with his mouth, licking hungrily and making the other man whimper. He can taste himself in Reid's mouth and it's so hot, god, who would've guessed he would fucking _swallow-_

 _"Derek,"_ Reid whispers, pressing forward until they're both flush against the door.

Morgan can feel how hard he is, realizes that Spencer got that way just from sucking him off and groans into his mouth. "How do you want it, baby?"

"Can't wait," Spencer mumbles, "just - here-"

"No no no," says Derek, catching Spencer's fingers as he fiddles with his belt. "Already done it this way once."

He drags Reid over to the couch as Reid protests, "I know variety's important but I'm not very concerned about it at the moment-"

Morgan cuts him off with a laugh, flopping onto the couch and pulling Reid on top of him. "Trust me, you're gonna like this."

"Mmm," Reid sighs, tilting his head and squirming as Morgan pulls him close and kisses up his neck. Derek can feel his pulse beating rabbit-quick underneath his soft skin, and he takes a moment to purse his lips and suck a light mark just underneath his jaw. "Ohh-"

"Wish I could leave somethin' people would really see," Derek mumbles, feeling unexpectedly possessive. Spencer moans in response, shifting on his lap restlessly and gripping the back of his shirt.

The next kiss is even more desperate than the last, and Derek busies his hands by undoing all of the little annoying buttons on Reid's shirt. His chest is so smooth with a hint of definition, and Derek gropes blindly until his fingers find Spencer’s nipples, already pebbled and hard.

 _“Uhhn,”_ Reid moans into his mouth, working his hips forward desperately as Morgan lightly pinches the sensitive little buds between his fingertips.

He wonders, for a wild second or two, if he could make Spencer come just like this. As Spencer quickly shrugs his shirt the rest of the way off, though, Derek decides he’d much rather get his mouth on those nipples instead.

Reid keens when Morgan leans down and wraps his lips around his left nipple. His hands fly up and grip the back of Morgan’s head, urging him closer, and Morgan grins around his nipple because he _knew_ it would be like this, he knew Reid would react this way. He gathers the younger man closer, wrapping both arms around his slender waist as he suckles gently and tears a groan from Spencer’s throat.

“Please,” Spencer gasps, “oh, please… it hurts…”

Derek draws off immediately, concerned. “What hurts?”

“Need to come,” Spencer clarifies. “It - my dick hurts, not anything else, keep going.”

They both giggle softly, but Reid’s so keyed up that his laugh turns into a growl when Morgan dips back down and tongues over his other nipple, getting it wet before biting very gently just to tease him more. Reid’s hips are moving back and forth like he can’t stay still, so Morgan takes pity on him and fumbles his zipper open as he sucks harder.

“Oh god,” Reid whines, his hips jerking like he’s been burned as Morgan pulls him out of his boxers. “Oh god ohgodohgod, please, _please-”_

Derek bites down one last time before switching to his left nipple again, leaving the right one wet with spit and wishing he had more hands so he could play with it. As it is, he’s using one hand to coax Spencer higher with steady strokes and the other to hold him close so he doesn’t fall off Derek’s lap.

Spencer’s fingernails are scratching near the base of Derek’s neck now, digging in every time Derek sucks particularly hard or thumbs over the head of his cock, and it’s sending goosebumps down Derek’s spine. Every time he remembers that Reid’s like this - in this _frenzy -_ just because he apparently really likes sucking dick, Morgan’s cock gives a little twitch and he wishes he had the refractory period he had when he was in college.

Then Reid whines again and Morgan refocuses on the squirming genius in his lap.

“Gonna - _oh,”_ Spencer breathes, his breath hitching as Derek nibbles at the sensitive flesh in his mouth, “ohhh, fuck, m’gonna - m’gonna come-”

He falls off into a high moan as Morgan speeds up the pace of his hand, then a few seconds later Spencer throws his head back and gasps as Derek feels him start to spill over his fingers. God, his whole body’s shaking, and he’s gripping tightly at Derek’s head like he’s afraid he might fall over.

Morgan neverwould've _dreamed_ that Reid would be this effortlessly sensual, but the way he's clawing at Morgan's skin and arching his back lewdly definitely has the potential to be addicting. After a few more seconds, though, the younger man starts shoving desperately at Morgan’s head.

“Enough, god - _god-”_

“Too much for you, pretty boy?” Derek teases, nipping at the tender bud one last time before drawing away.

“So much,” Reid breathes. He gives a little shudder as Derek eases one last spurt of come from his cock. “So much a lot.”

Derek laughs. “All those words in your head and that’s what you come up with?”

Reid slumps forward, his forehead resting against Morgan’s. He gives a soft, breathy laugh, hips twitching away from Derek’s hand before he nuzzles forward and kisses him. Spencer’s lips are still so soft and he kisses like a dream, languid and happy as Derek pushes his tongue forward.

“Mmm,” Derek moans, bringing his clean hand up to tangle in Reid’s sweaty hair. He pulls the other man closer, uncaring of the come getting smeared on his t-shirt - after all, Reid already ruined it during his orgasm and it was definitely worth it.

After a few more minutes, Morgan breaks the kiss just before it starts to really get heated again.

“I’m startin’ to wonder if we really might have to ice your lips after this.”

Reid giggles, his mouth plush and swollen. “I think a cold drink or two might suffice.”

“Oh, you got lines now?” Derek asks delightedly.

“I figured it wouldn’t be too forward considering we already engaged in non-platonic analingus.”

“Man, you gotta stop puttin’ it like that.”

xxx

After Morgan changes his shirt and the two of them freshen up, they both drive separately to a pizza place near Morgan’s house that they’ve gone to together a couple of times before.

“Hey, if you wanna stick around after this, you can come with me and help pick up Clooney from the kennel,” Morgan offers as they walk inside.

“I _knew_ something was different about your house!” Spencer exclaims. “That would’ve been super weird if we were - um - when your dog was home.”

Derek laughs, holding the door open for the younger man.

“Anyway, I’ll pass,” continues Spencer. “I still don’t think your dog likes me very much. Don’t you usually have a neighbor watch him, though?”

“I do,” Morgan agrees as they wait at the hostess stand. “But the Kapoors were out of town and I didn’t know how long the case was gonna run, so I just decided to take him to a kennel instead.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’d do well visiting a kennel,” Reid says with a shudder.

Morgan laughs again as the hostess, Shawna, approaches them with a smile.

“Well hello, you two!” she exclaims as she grabs them some menus. “I see you guys finally did it.”

Reid trips and bangs his hip against the hostess stand with a shout as Morgan splutters, “Sorry?”

“You solved the case,” she says, giving them a strange look. “Whenever you don’t come in for more than a week, Derek, I assume you’re on a case.”

“Oh, right,” says Morgan, feeling stupid. “Right. The case. We uh, yeah, we solved it. You know us, always solving cases.”

Reid snorts as they sit down.

“Should I leave the menus or do you want your usual?” Shawna asks.

“You cool with splitting one again?” Morgan asks Reid.

Reid nods, adding, “And a diet coke, please.”

“I’ll have a Bud Light,” Derek tells Shawna.

She raises an eyebrow, probably because she expected his usual order of Dr. Pepper.

“Look, after the case we just had, you’d want one too,” he says.

Shawna laughs. “Say no more, say no more.”

“That was incredibly smooth,” Reid says with a smile once Shawna’s gone. “‘You know us, always solving cases.’”

“Shut up,” Derek laughs. “I thought she somehow knew that we-”

“I know, I thought that too,” says Spencer. “And now my hip’s going to bruise because of it.”

He pulls up his shirt and peers at his hip with a frown. Derek makes an involuntary noise at the exposed skin and watches as the corner of Spencer’s mouth twists up.

“I bruise too easily,” Spencer complains.

“Not necessarily a bad thing,” Derek says with a smile. “Until you’re in the field.”

“Or doing any kind of physical work.”

Derek laughs. “So no chance you’d ever come work on one of my houses with me?”

“Probably not the demolition,” Reid admits.

“Aw, but that’s the best part!”

Shawna drops off their drinks and they continue chatting; Reid asks Derek lots of questions about his houses, and Derek realizes that they haven’t gotten the chance to talk about their lives outside of work in a few months.

When the pizza comes - half pepperoni, half sausage - Derek takes it as an opportunity to turn the tables and ask Spencer more about what he’s been up to.

“Georgetown recently asked me to do a guest lecture series on developmental psychology,” Spencer says with a smile as he loads up his plate. “I’m not sure when I’m going to find the time to turn it into a series, but I’m excited about writing at least one or two new lectures.”

“How long does it take to do something like that?”

“Well, it depends on how much information I want to present per lecture,” Reid explains. “If I do the full six like they want me to, I’ll be able to go more in-depth on each of them and it’ll actually take less time to write each one. Conversely, if I have to condense all the material I _want_ to present down into one or two lectures, it’ll take more time for me to decide what I should include, condense it down to what’s most important.”

“I took a developmental psych class at Northwestern,” Morgan says. “It was actually pretty intense, and I imagine these days there’s lots more information to work with now that Freud’s been debunked.”

Reid rolls his eyes. “Ugh, Freud.”

They both laugh.

“Seriously, he’s so gross,” Reid says, taking a sip of his diet coke and then chewing on the straw absentmindedly. “The way he sexualized children with fixations? Disgusting.”

Morgan immediately feels guilty, because every time Reid’s chewed on that goddamn straw the only thing going through Morgan’s brain has been _oral fixation! oral fixation!_

“You should write a textbook or something,” he says instead. “You can come up with some new theories and then they’ll teach your stuff instead of Freud’s.”

Reid snorts. “I’m good at memorizing theories and applying them to different situations and contexts, Derek, not conceiving brand-new content.”

“See, I think you’re good at just about everything, so that doesn’t really fly with me,” Morgan says with a smile.

Spencer blushes and looks down, fiddling with the pizza’s crust. “You give me too much credit sometimes.”

“Impossible.”

His blush only gets deeper. God, he’s gorgeous.

“You could write a book on paraphilias,” Morgan tries, laughing as Reid giggles quietly. “Imagine that: _Weird Sex Stuff, Edition 1_ by Doctor Spencer Reid. An instant bestseller.”

“I know you’re joking, but there could seriously be more than one edition,” says Reid. “Students always think I’m kidding when I say that people can sexualize anything, but I’m really not. Did you know there’s a whole group of people on the internet who sexualize the children’s show _My Little Pony?”_

“What?” Derek asks, recoiling. “How could you even - they’re _horses!”_

Reid shrugs. “They’re called Bronies. I could probably do a guest-lecture series on just them, if I’m being honest. All sorts of issues there to explore.”

Morgan shudders. “Sometimes I feel like that big brain of yours might be a curse, pretty boy. All sorts of freaky shit you end up remembering for life.”

“You’re telling me,” Reid snorts.

They finish up the pizza about ten minutes later, plowing through all of it like they haven’t eaten in days. Actually, Morgan realizes, they really haven’t had anything since breakfast at the hotel this morning, so it’s good that they got such a big pizza - normally they have leftovers, but not tonight.

“You sure you don’t want to come pick up Clooney with me?” Morgan asks after they split the bill.

“No thanks,” Spencer says with a small smile as they walk outside to their cars. “I’m sure I’m not the first person he wants to see.”

Derek can’t really explain the feeling of… disappointment, maybe, that grips him after Spencer declines to spend more time with him. They were just gone on a case for almost two weeks, for god’s sake, and he’d been almost constantly in Reid’s presence for that _entire_ time and now he wants to spend _more_ time with him?

“...But if you wanted to go for coffee after work tomorrow, I _could_ be persuaded to come over afterward and see if he’s warmed up to me since the last time I saw him,” Reid says shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear and rocking back on his heels.

Morgan grins. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Alrighty then,” Morgan says. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow, pretty boy.”

Spencer bites the inside of his cheek and then, with a quick glance over to the restaurant to make sure no one’s looking, leans over and kisses Derek on the cheek.

Derek gets in his SUV with an embarrassing, unmanly feeling in his stomach and a stupid smile on his face.

xxx

When he steps inside his apartment, Spencer immediately lets out a breath it feels like he’s been holding since this morning.

Holy _shit._

Are the last 24 hours the result of some sort of psychotic break? Was he been captured and tortured by an UnSub until his mind finally broke? Was he actually pierced by Patrick Collins’ long, unsanitary needle, and taken to the hospital and put on strong pain medication that induced hallucinations?

All three of those options actually seem more logical than the truth: that he and Derek Morgan just got each other off three times _each_ in the span of the last 24 hours.

And Spencer is _scared._ He’s fucking terrified that when this delicate fantasy bubble finally pops - as it inevitably will - his and Derek’s friendship will end up irreparably damaged. If he focuses on that too much, though, he’s probably going to end up hyperventilating and passing out in his entryway, so he decides to write a letter to his mother instead.

Reid walks into his office, flipping on the light and smiling when he sees the mounds of haphazardly organized academic papers he has plans to go through in the coming weeks. He hangs his satchel on the back of his chair and sits down, sighing happily at being back in the most comforting, familiar environment he knows.

Spencer takes out a blank sheet of paper and, with a deep breath, begins to write.

_Dear Mom,_

_Sorry I haven’t written for thirteen days - I told you in the last letter I sent you that I was leaving with the team to work a case in Oregon, and it ended up taking longer than usual. I’m back now, though, and I want you to know that every day I was away, I missed writing to you._

_On the Georgetown front, I still haven’t decided how much time I want to devote to it, but there are a lot of avenues I could go down in terms of exploring different facets of developmental psychology. I think, if I do it correctly, it could almost seem like a vacation, just because it’s so much different and less sinister than what I normally deal with on a daily basis. Until, of course, we get into childhood traumas that cause, for example, Dissociative Identity Disorder, but maybe I’ll end up taking the lectures in a different direction. I’m almost certainly planning on devoting a few minutes to lecturing on how beneficial it is for parents to read to their children! Although maybe they don’t do that anymore these days, I’m not sure. I hope for the kids’ sake that reading is still an activity that many households enjoy, because it was one of the best parts of my childhood._

_I have some news that you almost certainly aren’t expecting… I’ve had a little bit of a crush on one of my best friends for some time now, but I never thought it would end up being returned - I’d resigned myself to unrequited affection for quite a while. However, I recently learned that it’s... sort of returned. I’m not sure? I don’t really know how people go about talking about these things, and I don’t know how many questions it’s appropriate for me to ask without being annoying. You know I’ve always had some trouble with social cues. With this, though, I’m really concerned about messing it up or misstepping - more so than I’ve ever been with anyone else, probably because I was very close with this friend before we discovered that the other felt the same way. It’s… exciting, but also terrifying. Hopefully my letter tomorrow is just as enthusiastic about this, but I don’t know when he’s going to realize that I’m not what he wants. That sounds pessimistic written out, doesn’t it? To be fair, you’re the one who’s always told me that if I keep my expectations low, I’ll never be disappointed, and it’s been sound advice relative to my life so far, so I think I’ll keep on applying that philosophy until I receive a reason to do otherwise._

_I hope you’re doing well! I loved your last letter about the little fight your book club had - when imagining you trying to restore order I had this image in my head of you pounding on the table with a gavel and it made me laugh. I know Dostoevsky can be very polarizing for some people, but it’s good to hear that the people in your book club are passionate enough to inspire those kinds of arguments - you mentioned a few years ago that you were frustrated with the lack of interest in your book club, so I’m really glad to hear that things have changed._

_Anyway, it’s pretty late and the day of traveling ended up being exhausting, so I think I’m going to head to bed. I’ll write you tomorrow about how the actual case went - it was quite gruesome but very interesting and I want to recount it to you once I’ve had a full night of sleep. I hope to hear from you soon and I love you very much!_

_Love,_

_Spencer_

xxx

Reid can’t believe he’s stooped so low as to read a handbook for dentists on how to deal with troublesome patients. It may be a slow work day so far, but that’s hardly an excuse to read literature that’s barely a step above _Anatomy for Dummies._ Still, he reads on, letting the clacking of Emily’s keyboard lull him back into the speed-reading zone.

_The gag reflex involves a brisk and brief elevation of the soft palate and bilateral contraction of pharyngeal muscles evoked by touching the posterior pharyngeal wall. Touching the soft palate can lead to a similar reflex response. However, in that case, the sensory limb of the reflex is the CN V (trigeminal nerve); as with most reflex responses, the neural message doesn’t travel all the way to the brain, instead making use of the much quicker pathway to the spinal cord and back._

_In very sensitive individuals, however, much more of the brain stem may be involved; a simple gag may enlarge to retching and vomiting in some. Both the gag response and the gag initiation can be classified as hypersensitive, and the 10-15% of patients with hypersensitive gag reflex (HGR) can pose a problem if dentists need to perform uncomfortable procedures. Numbing the pharynx is one obvious technique if the patient needs to remain awake for the procedure, but there are several less invasive and uncomfortable methods the patients themselves can use to make procedures easier._

_The left hand contains several pressure points that are said to relieve the gag reflex. Some of these, like the Hegu point in the web between the left thumb and forefinger, have been covered in acupuncture training for centuries; however, the easiest pressure point to stimulate lies at the base of the left thumb. Patients can access this by balling their hand into a fist with their thumb tucked behind their other fingers and squeezing._

Reid makes a fist and tucks his thumb inside, squeezing curiously and wondering how discreet it would be to stick his right hand down his throat to test the theory.

“Why are you reading a book written for dentists?” Emily asks, drawing Spencer’s attention away from the book.

“I, um, I’ve been having some trouble with my gag reflex when my dentist has to hold my tongue down with a depressor, and part of this book covers techniques patients can use to lessen discomfort,” he lies. Well, it’s only partially a lie.

“Oh, you sheltered child,” Prentiss laughs, snorting a little as JJ walks over to see what the conversation’s about. “Oldest trick in the book is to make a fist and squeeze your thumb inside. Gets rid of the reflex every time.”

“I was just reading about that!” Reid exclaims. “Do you have trouble with tongue depressors too?”

Emily’s grin just gets wider. “No, but I used to have trouble with something a lot larger."

She pokes her tongue against the inside of her cheek a couple of times to make her point, causing JJ to gasp and hit her on the shoulder.

"Em! His poor innocent ears!"

"I probably just scarred him for life," Prentiss snickered.

Reid decides the best course of action is to feign innocence, rather than to tell Prentiss she's not very far off course. "I'm not entirely sure what you're talking about."

"Bless you, Spencer Reid," Emily smiles. "Bless you."

JJ ruffles his hair before walking over to her office. Spencer bristles a little, but just then Derek walks into the bullpen and his heart leaps into his throat.

Reid's never reacted this strongly to the other man before - he looks good, sure, but Morgan _always_ looks good. Today he's wearing a thin black sweater that shows off his trim waist and ridiculous arms, and Reid's palms start to sweat when he remembers what's _under_ those clothes. Oh, now he can't stop thinking about what they _did_ yesterday, on multiple occasions - his mind's playing little moments over and over, his heart is racing-

"Reid?"

Spencer startles out of his own head when he realizes that Derek's standing right in front of him. How long has he been there?

"You alright?" Morgan asks, waving a hand in front of his face.

"Yeah," Reid mutters. He squirms in his chair and folds his legs underneath himself, feeling restless as he remembers just how clever Morgan's hands are. "Just a little tired."

"God, I slept so well last night," Prentiss says as Morgan takes a seat at his desk. "Pretty much collapsed on the couch as soon as I got home, woke up at midnight just long enough to make myself a sandwich and then passed out again."

"Clooney wouldn't let me sleep 'til I played with him for a couple hours," says Derek. "Don't blame him, but it got exhausting after a while."

As Morgan and Prentiss catch up, Reid bites his lip and continues reading about various ways to suppress his gag reflex.

He digs his nails into his palm when he imagines how he's going to test these various methods after work.

xxx

No day has ever felt so incredibly long.

Normally Spencer enjoys being at the BAU, but today he feels antsy and uncomfortable, almost feeling obsessive every time he glances at the clock. He can't glance over at Derek without feeling even more distracted, memories of lips and hands and a certain steamy shower making his head feel foggy and unfocused.

Finally, when five o'clock rolls around and no new cases have been assigned, Reid's the first one out of his chair.

"Where's the fire, Spence?" JJ asks as she walks out of her office.

"I'm trying to cut back on caffeine but it's not working and I need espresso," Reid says, the words tumbling out quickly as he glances over at Morgan.

Emily raises an eyebrow. "You sure you need espresso at 5pm?"

"I know caffeine takes an average of eleven hours to wear off, but I've done calculations for my own body chemistry and tolerance and I've determined it only affects me for four hours after consumption."

Morgan smiles, standing up as well. "C'mon, pretty boy, there's a café whatever with your name on it at that new shop down by River Oaks."

JJ and Prentiss coo about how much of a gentleman Morgan is while Reid scurries out of the bullpen as fast as his long legs can carry him.

They drive separately to the new coffee shop, which is called "The Bean Queen."

"Something tells me Garcia would appreciate this place," Reid says as they're waiting in line.

"Yeah, probably," Morgan snorts. "Look, they even have a drink called 'Fit For a Queen.' Oh god, that sounds disgusting."

"What about it? Toffee syrup and vanilla syrup and hazelnut syrup all in the same drink sounds really good."

Derek makes a retching sound. "Then feel free to get it, princess, I'll stick to something that won't give me sugar blisters."

"They're called transient lingual papilla," Reid says distractedly. "And I might actually get that drink."

Spencer ends up ordering it, while Morgan orders a cold-brew iced coffee.

"Would you like that sweetened with sugar, sweetener, simple syrup, agave nectar, or chicory syrup?" the barista asks.

Derek's eyebrows shoot up and he looks like he's having a lot of trouble deciding, so Spencer volunteers, "He'll have it with chicory syrup."

"It's a more subtle type of sweetness and it also contains a prebiotic rich in fiber," he tells Morgan as they wait near the counter. "A very manly drink."

Morgan snorts. "That's rich, coming from a dude who ordered the girliest drink on the menu."

"Hey, I'm confident in my masculinity," Reid shoots back.

They stare at each other, smiles growing on both of their faces until they eventually burst into laughter.

Once the two of them sit down and try their drinks, though, there's nothing distracting Spencer from the thoughts that have been plaguing him all day. When Derek fiddles with his coffee cup, all Spencer sees are his capable hands and long fingers; when he shifts in his seat, Spencer can't stop thinking about the way his thighs flexed during orgasm yesterday; when he licks his lips after every sip of his coffee, it just brings Spencer back to yesterday morning when he was licking-

"Spencer?"

That's the _second_ time today that's happened.

"Sorry," Reid stammers, his cheeks coloring as Morgan waves a hand in front of his face. "I'm - I need the bathroom, I'll be right back."

He gets up and nearly runs to the bathroom, leaving his sweet drink and confused companion behind in favor of splashing some cool water on his face from the sink.

Spencer has never felt like this before. He's fooled around with people before, but he's never been this _distracted_ around them afterward, never felt like the incompetent fool he's been all day today.

He splashes some water on his face again, eventually turning the sink off and leaning up to grab some paper towels. He pats his face dry and, after he looks back up, almost jumps when he sees Morgan looking at him in the mirror.

"Is everything okay?" the older man asks gently. "You've seemed pretty distracted today, and I'm just... I'm worried you're havin' second thoughts about all this."

"Second thoughts?" Reid asks, turning around and twisting the paper towel nervously in his hands.

“Yeah,” says Morgan. He scratches the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. “Look, uh, if it’s bothering you or something-”

“It’s not bothering me,” Reid says quickly. “Well, it _is_ bothering me, but not - not in a bad way.”

Derek raises an eyebrow. “So… what kind of way are we talking?”

“Um…” Spencer bites his lip. “The kind of way that… made me think about kissing you all day.”

He spits the last part out very fast and then has to fight the urge to cover his face.

Morgan’s face breaks into a grin. _“That’s_ what this is all about? You can’t keep your head on straight ‘cause you just want more of this?” He gestures to himself.

“Oh my god, shut up,” Spencer pleads, finally giving into the desire to cover his face.

Strong hands pry his away seconds later, though, and Reid can’t look away from Morgan’s smiling face.

“Please don’t make fun of me.”

“Of course I won’t,” says Derek. He backs them up until Reid’s bumping against the counter. “It’s hot, are you kidding? You’re tellin’ me you won’t be able to focus until-” he pecks Reid on the lips and Reid makes a small involuntary noise- “you get-” another kiss- “some lovin’?”

"That's not - exactly how - I'd describe it," Spencer protests, pausing every few words to receive another kiss. He's starting to feel all hot and squirmy inside.

"So if I - stopped this - right now - you'd be - alright?" Morgan asks, pressing a little more forward with every progressively deeper kiss. His hips are pinning Spencer's to the counter and, oh god, he tastes like fresh-ground coffee and his hands are wrapping around Spencer's back, holding him close-

Reid whimpers loudly, finally giving in and clutching tightly at the soft fabric of Morgan's sweater. They make out needily for a few more seconds, the kiss slick and messy, before Morgan nips at Reid's bottom lip and pulls back.

"I... um..." Morgan has this uncanny ability to make words escape Reid. "We could... take the coffee in the car? To go? Back to your house?"

"I can work with that," Derek grins, threading a hand through Spencer's hair and tugging lightly as he leans in for one last kiss.

xxx

They don’t make it to Morgan’s house, but they do make it to Morgan’s driveway.

It turns out the backseat of his SUV is very roomy and a relatively nice place for frantic, so-dry-they’re-just-on-the-right-side-of-uncomfortable handjobs.

It also turns out that Clooney likes Spencer a lot more when he smells like Derek’s semen. This probably has something to do with Derek “marking” Spencer as part of what Clooney perceives as their “pack,” but canine evolution is something that has always somewhat disturbed Spencer, so he chooses not to dwell on it.

xxx

The next two weeks continue in much the same fashion; Spencer’s friendship with Derek is relatively unaffected, aside from the new and varied ways they like to spend alone time. Other than that, they still hang out - even more than they used to - and try different restaurants, argue over what to watch on television, and regale each other with funny stories from college and the one year of grad school when Reid was 21, respectively.

They're dating, maybe. Spencer's _dating_ Derek Morgan. It's fine.

However, as often as they tend to room together on cases, they have yet to sleep over at the other’s residence. Sometimes Reid will be staying at Morgan’s place until ten or eleven at night watching SyFy and Morgan will yawn and ask if he wants to stay over; Reid always says no.

It’s not that Reid _doesn’t_ want to wake up snuggled in Morgan’s sturdy arms; the mere thought sends shivers running through him. No, he’s just - frightened. Frightened of the significance of finally becoming fully comfortable in Morgan’s safe space, or Morgan in his - it feels like a big step, and Reid’s frightened he’ll accidentally do something to ruin the easy understanding they’ve fallen into.

After a local case in DC that wraps up in only a couple days, Hotch gives them Saturday off with the promise that he’ll do his best to deflect any incoming cases to either another team or, at the very least, Sunday morning, and on Friday Reid finds himself relaxing on Morgan’s couch as the clock nears 11:30pm.

“You want another beer?” Morgan calls from the kitchen, evidently rummaging through the refrigerator for one himself.

“I’ve already had two,” Spencer replies. “I think I’m good.”

“You sound tired,” Derek says with a grin as he walks back into the room.

Reid shrugs and yawns, burrowing further into the couch. “This game’s putting me to sleep.”

Derek laughs. “Yeah, the Hawks are kinda runnin’ away with it.”

Spencer closes his eyes and listens as Derek pops the cap off his beer, then lets the confusing noises of the Chicago Blackhawks versus Detroit Red Wings game lull him into a half-sleep. At some point, Morgan pulls Reid’s feet into his lap and starts giving his calves a massage, which only makes Reid feel sleepier as a smile stretches across his face.

Some time later, the noise from the television abruptly stops and Spencer comes out of his doze, realizing that the game is over.

“Alright, pretty boy, it’s past midnight. Wanna crash here for the night?” Morgan asks. “Otherwise I’m gonna have to kick you out so I can get some shut-eye.”

Maybe it's the beer, maybe it's the fatigue, maybe it's the fact that Spencer can only deny himself such a comfort for so long - whatever the reason, he says, "Yeah, sure. I, um, I don't have any of my stuff with me."

"You didn't bring your go-bag?" Morgan asks as they drag themselves off the couch.

"It's all the way outside in my car," Reid whines.

Derek laughs. "Aww, poor baby." When Spencer slumps against him and grumbles, though, he adds, "I'm sure I have a spare toothbrush you can use."

Reid manages to get ready for bed using exclusively borrowed items, including a very large Chicago P.D. shirt that comes down to the middle of his thighs.

"We're the same height, how did this ever possibly fit you?" he asks as they both climb into bed.

"It stretched out a lot over the years," Derek says. "And we may be the same height, but we're definitely not the same size."

"Shut up," Spencer says half-heartedly as he cuddles into Morgan's side.

He feels a little tense, probably because he's nervous to be completely unguarded around the older man for the first time since they started... dating. So he continues the banter, hoping it'll relax him. "You know what, I think I'm actually a centimeter or two taller than you."

"No way," huffs Morgan.

"I'm serious!"

"You're lucky I'm too comfy to get up and get a tape measure," Derek laughs, reaching over to turn out the light before hauling Spencer closer. “Man, am I excited to not set an alarm.”

“I can’t remember the last time I slept in,” says Reid.

He feels Morgan press a kiss to the top of his head. “If you close your eyes you’ll be sleeping in in no time, kid.”

“M’not a kid,” Reid mumbles, already drifting off despite his nerves.

xxx

All the people at Spencer’s high-school reunion are five or six years older than him, but it doesn’t feel as drastic now as it did during high school. Especially since he chose to bring his boyfriend with him, who has a couple years on most of the people here.

“Are you sure this is a public school?” Morgan asks in awe. “It’s so nice.”

“I handled all our family’s finances after the age of ten and I can assure you I went to a public school,” Reid says. “Besides, it’s not that nice.”

Morgan snorts. “You should see Chicago public schools. This place looks like a snooty boarding school compared to where I went.”

They mingle a little bit, but Spencer sticks close to Derek’s side, unsure as to why he thought coming to this reunion would be a good idea. He says hi to the people that were halfway decent to him, the handful of people who were actually nice to him, all the while with Derek’s hand warm and reassuring on the small of his back.

Derek drops his hand, though, when they’re approached by two pretty women whom Spencer would recognize anywhere.

“Spencer!” Alexa yells delightedly, scurrying over to him on tall heels. “Who’s your friend?”

“Um,” Spencer stammers, suddenly feeling cold without Morgan’s arm around him, “th-this, this is my boyfriend, Derek. Derek, this is-”

“Alexa,” Alexa cuts in, leaning in for a clingy hug and pressing air-kisses to both of Derek’s cheeks.

“And I’m Harper,” Harper says, giving Derek the same greeting. “Wow, I can’t believe you got yourself such a catch, Spencer!”

Her voice is cold and teasing, and it makes Reid want to get away from here as soon as possible. “Well, we both work in the same-”

“Oh, you work together?” Alexa cuts him off. “That makes sense. We always joked that the only way Spencer could interact with people normally is if they were forced to acknowledge him.”

To Spencer’s horror, Derek laughs. “Yeah, we have to deal with him rambling about random shit all the time. It’s for the job, you know?”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Harper laughs. Spencer reaches for Derek’s hand, hoping for some reassurance, but the other man shifts slightly away. “He talked all the time in high school too. Sometimes he would come to parties and we’d have to make him play seven minutes in heaven just to get him to shut up.”

 _My mom made me go to those parties,_ Spencer wants to say. _On her good days she wanted to make sure I was socializing occasionally, but-_

“Because of course that’s the only reason anyone would kiss him,” says Alexa, rolling her eyes and making Derek laugh again. “One of our friends said it was like kissing a robot.”

“Oh my god, that’s what we used to call him,” squeals Harper delightedly. “He’s a lot like a robot if you think about it, you know? He can’t understand emotions - or any social cues at all, really, it’s honestly hilarious-”

“One time my boyfriend and his friends made Spencer wear a robot costume for Halloween,” Alexa cackles, the two women falling over themselves in an attempt to one-up each other and make Derek laugh. “That’s what we all called him for a while, _robot, robot-”_

“And unless hell’s frozen over, he’s probably still a virgin to this day,” says Harper.

Derek turns to Spencer, looking upset. “You’re a virgin?”

“I-” Spencer stammers. “I’ve never - with a guy-”

“But you have with a girl?” Alexa laughs. “Oh my god, that’s the funniest mental image, imagine how bad he was-”

“I don’t know if I can be with someone so inexperienced,” Derek tells him with a frown.

“And how good do you think he could really be, anyway?” Harper asks slyly. “God, Spencer, you haven’t changed at all since high school.”

“I-”

“Save it, kid,” Derek cuts him off. “Are you ladies here with anyone?”

“Our husbands are both overseas right now,” Alexa says, twisting her face into a horrible fake pout. “Now that you mention it, we’ve been pretty lonely.”

“And I’m sure you have too,” Harper tells Derek. “I doubt a robot’s great company to have day in, day out.”

Spencer reaches for Derek’s hand again, tears spilling down his cheeks, but this time Derek steps away from him entirely. “As a matter of fact, I have. Why don’t we talk more over some punch?”

 _No,_ Spencer wants to yell as he watches the three of them walk away. _Come back, Derek, Derek-_

He’s rooted to the spot, he can’t move, he can’t breathe - he thought he was past all of that, he thought they were just ghosts, he didn’t think anyone would ever call him a robot ever again-

_Robot, robot! - Nice costume, robot! - It’s like kissing a robot! - Who could ever love-_

“Spencer!”

Reid startles awake, clinging fiercely to the first thing he can find, which he discovers is Morgan’s arm after the dream fog fully lifts.

“Are you okay? God, man, I’ve been tryin’ to wake you up ‘cause you were yelling for me,” Morgan says, his face twisted with concern.

“Oh god,” Spencer croaks, embarrassment washing over him as he realizes he must’ve been causing a fuss.

He sits up, twisting out of Derek’s hold and putting his head in his hands. God, he’s so pathetic.

“Hey, hey, shhh,” Morgan soothes him as a few tears slip out. “Want to talk about it?”

Reid shakes his head _no,_ but after a few more minutes of Derek steadily rubbing his back, he breaks and tells him everything.

“I would never even go to m-my high school reunion in the first place,” he sniffles after he’s done. “I should’ve known it was a dream.”

“You know that’s not how it works,” Morgan says, pulling him back down to the bed so he can spoon up behind him, his chest warm against Reid’s back even through the t-shirt. “Man, the more I hear about those girls the more I wanna sick Prentiss on them.”

Reid chokes out a weak laugh. “They weren’t very nice to me.”

“I’ll say,” Derek says, sounding upset. “I’m so, so sorry, baby. But you’re here with me now, and I’m never gonna let them hurt you again. I won’t leave you, alright? I’m not like that asshole in your dream.”

“I know you’re not,” Spencer says. “But that’s why - whenever a local police officer makes a joke about me being a robot, I just - I’m a _person,_ okay, just because I have trouble with, um, social stuff sometimes doesn’t mean I’m - I-”

“Aw, baby, you’re so much more than your brain and I wish everyone could see that.”

“Well, technically, I’m not much more than my brain. One of my old professors used to describe humans as sentient souls piloting a meat suit.”

“You know what I mean,” Morgan laughs. “There’s so much more to you than your intellect, and if people can’t see that then they aren’t worth your time. I promise.”

Spencer trembles a little, turning around in Derek’s arms so he can bury his face in Derek’s chest and give him little kisses as thanks.

They fall back asleep like that, and Spencer figures that if Derek still wants him after watching him act like a child after a stupid nightmare, there’s not much more he can do to ruin... whatever it is they have. He smiles and has pleasant, non-sensical dreams for the rest of the night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a reminder, I love getting feedback on here in the comments section :) I hope you liked it!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer is insecure when he has no reason to be. Water is wet. The sky is blue.

The beginning of November is always when Derek starts to _feel_ the cold outside - both in his bones and in his lungs. It’s especially apparent during his morning run, when he has to practically sprint to keep up with Clooney and sucks in air that burns his throat with how cold it is.

His runs in the morning always clear his head, though, and he really needs this today after the night he just had.

“Slow down, boy,” he pants at Clooney, his thoughts consumed with the beautiful genius currently occupying his bed as his dog huffs disapprovingly at him.

Last night was the first night Spencer had ever slept over, and even though neither of them made a big deal over it at all, Derek knows that it was a big step - especially after he’d had to comfort the younger man in the middle of the night after a seemingly intense nightmare. It had reminded him that their friendship - or relationship, maybe, whatever - isn’t casual, has _never_ been, because both of them are too screwed up by the cards life has dealt them to do _anything_ casually.

Derek doesn’t mind, though, because Spencer is the first person he’s been with that he feels truly comfortable around, that he can truly _be himself_ around. (If someone had told him that five years ago, he would have suggested they undergo an evaluation with either Gideon himself or one of the FBI’s trained counselors, but times have apparently changed since then.)

As Morgan slows down his jog and approaches his own driveway, he runs over to his backyard fence and undoes the latch, letting Clooney loose in his spacious backyard and figuring that should keep the dog occupied for another hour or so. Clooney barks with joy at being released from his leash and immediately takes off after a fat squirrel.

Derek chuckles and latches the gate closed again, then lets himself in the front door of his house. He listens carefully for any movement and hears nothing; Spencer must still be asleep, then.

In his _bed._

Derek’s heart clenches as he thinks about the nightmare that woke his genius up last night, and the embarrassment Reid had clearly felt after he realized what had happened. Although Derek obviously has his share of reasons for having nightmares, he’s never met someone with as many different, separate reasons for having nightmares as Spencer. It broke his heart last night to realize that Reid was upsetting himself further by assuming he was a nuisance or burden by having those kinds of dreams in Derek’s bed.

With that in mind, Morgan chugs a quick glass of water in the kitchen before making his way upstairs. The sweat on his bare chest is starting to feel truly cold now that he’s indoors and no longer exercising, so he’s hoping Reid might be up for joining him in a (strictly innocent) hot shower.

When he gets to his bedroom, though, Derek finds his maybe-boyfriend still unconscious, tangled in his sheets and snoring softly. It ignites a weird feeling in his chest to see Reid like that, defenseless, his hair deliciously mussed, curled up in a Chicago PD shirt that’s several sizes too big for him - and Derek doesn’t quite feel like working through whatever that feeling actually is, so he decides to wake up Spencer as a distraction.

“Reid,” he tries, “Spencer. Wake up.”

No response.

“Pretty boy.”

Reid snuffles softly and burrows further into his nest of sheets and pillows, and Morgan has to stop himself from cooing out loud.

“C’mon, baby. It’s time to wake up, alright? We don’t wanna waste the whole day.”

It’s true; Derek normally likes to do his morning run at 7 am on Saturdays, but he’d pushed it to 8 today thanks to the combination of three beers, a late hockey game, and Reid’s nightmare. Morgan’s already behind his normal Saturday schedule and he’s feeling antsy.

Spencer doesn’t react to his voice, though, so Derek has no choice but to walk over to the bed and shake him by the shoulders. Reid bats at him halfheartedly after a few seconds and then, finally, he opens his eyes.

“Do we have a case?”

“No,” Derek laughs, “you’re just lazy and it’s time to get up.”

Spencer groans. “What _time_ is it?”

“It’s almost nine,” Derek replies.

“What the hell,” grumbles Spencer. “Watch me never sleep over here again.”

“What time do you _usually_ get up on Saturdays?” Morgan asks, feigning insult as Reid rolls in the sheets and turns away from him.

“Noon. Now go away and let me _sleep.”_

Morgan chuckles, and he’s about to give up and take a shower by himself when Reid makes a panicked noise and sits bolt upright in his bed.

“Whoa whoa whoa, what’s wrong?”

Spencer suddenly seems incapable of meeting his eyes. “Last night - oh god, I forgot, I’m so sorry-”

“What are you sorry for?”  
“Disturbing your sleep and being completely embarrassing,” Reid groans. He covers his face and mumbles, “I usually only complain about being a virgin to JJ, and even then only when I’m drunk.”

Derek raises his eyebrows - he really wants to ask how often JJ and Spencer drink together because it sounds hilarious, but he needs to address the other part of Reid’s thought. “Feel free to disagree, but from the way you suck dick I don’t consider you a virgin in any sense of the word.”

Spencer blushes a fierce red. “Yeah, but - with men, I haven’t - you know-”

“Hey, some guys don’t like that at all,” Derek shrugs. “No shame in that, right, kid? We all like what we like. There’s plenty of other stuff for us to try.”

He says that last part a little lecherously, hoping to entice Spencer out of his bad mood, but all it does it make the genius’ blush deepen.

“I _do_ want to try it, though,” he says quietly. “I mean… with you. At some point.”

Morgan swallows loudly. He hadn’t been expecting _that._

“Oh...kay,” he says slowly. “But there’s no rush on that, alright?”

Reid’s eyes widen. “Oh, I - I didn’t even _ask_ if _you_ wanted to, I’m - sorry, I don’t think well in the morning, I’ll just-”

“Hey,” Derek interrupts him. “Pretty boy. Stop it, c’mere.”

He sits down on the edge of the bed and holds out his arms, and Spencer shifts closer to him, looking nervous.

“I absolutely want to, alright? Let’s make that clear, at least. I just - I don’t want you feeling like it’s something you have to get out of the way, you know? Like it’s something you have to, like, get it over with.” Reid still doesn’t look convinced, so Morgan presses, “Seriously, you have _no_ idea how much I want to.”

Spencer makes a small noise.

“But waiting just gives me more time to plan it out and make it amazing for you.”

He leans forward at the look on Reid’s face - eyes wide, lips parted, his bottom lip caught between his teeth - and kisses him soundly to drive his point home. He brings both of his hands up to cup the younger man’s face and drinks in the little sound he makes when his lip is bitten. _Fuck._

“Seriously,” he murmurs against Spencer’s mouth, “I’m gonna make it so good for you.” Reid moans unabashedly at that, bringing his hands up to clutch at his waist. Unable to stop himself, Derek presses, “By the time I’m done with you, you’re gonna wonder how you ever lived without it. Gonna want it all the time.”

He’s expecting some sort of snarky response from his genius - something like, “Sex addiction is a serious issue, Derek” - but Spencer just moans louder instead, fitting their lips together and trying to drag Derek down on top of him.

Morgan lets himself get lost in it for a few moments, his mind pleasantly blank, but stops things before they can get too far.

“So are you willing to get up _now?”_ he asks teasingly, pulling back and sitting up completely.

Reid looks dazed and Morgan can’t help but feel smug. He recovers pretty quickly, though, looking down at his crotch and wryly observing, “You just _got_ me up.”

Derek bursts out laughing. “Well, I remember _someone_ saying that it’s unsanitary to kiss in the morning because-”

“It’s very easily corrected,” Spencer blurts, getting out of bed quickly and scampering into the bathroom completely naked.

Morgan watches him go, heat surging through him and that same smug feeling in his chest making it difficult to breathe. He gets up and follows Reid, fully intending on coaxing him into the shower after they’ve both brushed their teeth.

xxx

Sleeping over at each other’s places becomes much more normal over the next several weeks. Derek’s glad - he’s always been a fan of a little sugar in the morning - even though he has a brief spell of panic the first time he wakes up in Spencer’s cozy apartment and has no idea where he is.

Reid’s able to calm him down pretty quickly, though, silencing him with kisses and turning them both around to make _Morgan_ the little spoon, a position he doesn’t find himself in very often. But, like almost every other aspect of his relationship with the younger man, Morgan’s surprised by just how much he likes it, and they drift off back to sleep that way until a call from Hotch wakes both of them a few hours later.

Derek can't pinpoint the exact time he starts admitting that what they have is a full-blown relationship, but they've taken to going out to dinner together a couple times a week (when they don't have a case, of course), and since the holidays are fast approaching, they’ve even spared one sappy Saturday to go into D.C. and take in the whole city, dusted with snow and lit up with holiday lights.

They spend so much time together outside of the BAU that it almost begins to feel like a nuisance when they’re called in to work a case; Morgan’s never felt this way about the BAU in all his years of working there. This kid’s seriously done a number on his head.

“Have you heard literally anything I just said?”

Derek snaps out of his own head in time to see Prentiss glare at him. He winces. “Sorry.”

“What's got you so distracted, then?” she asks, tucking the final paperwork for their latest case in her bag as the quinjet rumbles through some turbulence. “Don't tell me you've suddenly developed a fear of flying.”

Derek shakes his head. “Nah, it’s… uh…”

Emily grins. “I know that face! When do we all get to meet her?”

“Not for a while,” Derek says, chuckling softly as he watches an oblivious Spencer demolish Hotch at chess on the other side of the plane. “It's still pretty new.”

“Not like we’ll scare her off or anything,” smirks Prentiss. “So have you guys been on actual dates, then? Or just…”

She makes a crude gesture with her hands that causes Rossi, who’s walking by with a freshly made Old Fashioned, to spill it all over his shirt.

“No! No, Jesus,” Morgan splutters. “We’ve been on _lots_ of dates-”

“Real dates, Derek,” Emily says. “Not sloppy makeouts on club dance floors.”

“Tell me what you _really_ think about me, geez.” Both of them laugh. “No, seriously, though… it’s been pretty low-key. She’s not really into all that stuff - come to think about it, I’m not sure if she’s much of a dancer at all.”

“Even something like a jazz club?” Prentiss asks, the teasing tone leaving her voice as she starts to look genuinely interested.

Morgan makes a face. “Those are for old people.”

“Whoa whoa _whoa,”_ Emily scoffs, “first of all - pot, kettle - second of all, I have friends our age who go all the time and they love it. They're far from the youngest people there, too.”

Derek tries to imagine himself and Spencer at a jazz club, and his skepticism must show on his face because Emily rolls her eyes and says, “Or _don't_ take my suggestion, Jesus, it doesn't matter to me either way. Unless it gets me a spot in your wedding party.”

“Get outta here,” Morgan laughs, punching her arm lightly.

Over the next couple of days, though, the more Morgan thinks about it, the more appealing it sounds. He does like to let off a little steam by going out once in a while, but hasn’t done anything like that since he and Reid started sleeping together.

Just to test the waters, that night, he brings it up at Reid’s place while the two of them are waiting for Chinese takeout to arrive for dinner.

“Hey, whadd’you say to goin’ out tonight?” he asks, handing Spencer a glass of ice water before sitting down across the coffee table from him.

Reid raises an eyebrow. “Out where?”

“I dunno,” Morgan shrugs. He hopes he’s coming off as casual. “A bar, maybe? I was thinkin’ someplace we could dance.”

He watches as Reid’s gaze drops to the floor. The genius’ whole demeanor changes - he sits up straighter and his knuckles go white around his glass of water.

“You know I’m not - very good at that, Derek.”

Morgan instantly regrets bringing up the subject. “Hey, no one’s expecting a flawless performance or anything, sweetheart. It’s just - something I haven't done in a while, so I figured I’d ask-”

“You can go without me, if you want,” Spencer mumbles, eyes still fixed on the floor.

“Why would I want to - Reid, the whole point is that I want to go out _with_ you.”

“Then - anything but dancing,” Spencer says quietly, finally meeting Derek’s eyes. “I’d just embarrass myself.”

Derek frowns. “Even if I… really want you to? You know you could never-”

“God, Derek, just please drop it?”

Morgan makes a small, hurt sound, not on his own behalf but on Reid’s - but before he can say anything else, the doorbell rings, and Reid jumps up like he’s been burned and races for the door, looking extremely grateful for a chance to escape the conversation.

Fuck.

Well, Derek obviously just touched a nerve. And, fuck it, he’s tired from their last case and definitely not in the mood to upset Spencer further by pressing the issue.

One thing’s for sure, though - something about dancing in a bar has bad associations for his boyfriend, and Morgan decides that he has to fix that one way or another. It's definitely not going to happen overnight, but he’ll have to thank Prentiss later for inspiring the first step.

xxx

Someone else might accuse Spencer of having low self-esteem, but he’s just being realistic.

As he lays in bed that night trying to fall asleep, Derek breathing softly in slumber next to him, Spencer decides that his spell of good luck has finally run out. This thing with Derek has always seemed too good to be true, and tonight was clearly the beginning of the end.

Spencer isn’t normal. He’s never enjoyed a lot of things that society generally deems “fun,” mostly because those things (like dancing) don’t come naturally to him like they do to others. It’s never bothered him before - after all, he finds lots of other activities enjoyable, and his mother taught him at an early age never to be embarrassed about things that make him happy - but he’s also never had a relationship with someone who enjoys “normal” things quite like Morgan does.

And once Morgan sees how uncomfortable Reid is in overwhelmingly social situations, he’ll remember that this thing between them was never going to last.

Before Spencer falls asleep, he curls closer to Derek and resolves to delay the inevitable as long as possible by politely declining every invitation Derek gives him to go out. That should buy him some time, time he can use to pretend he deserves Derek Morgan in his bed.

xxx

Morgan can’t figure out what’s going on.

Ever since he decided that it might be a good idea to take Reid to a jazz club, Reid’s suddenly become extremely busy. That by itself isn’t odd - after all, he has his January lecture series at Georgetown to prepare for - but what _is_ weird is that he’s absolutely _never_ too busy to hook up.

If it was anybody else other than his best friend, Derek would’ve chalked it up to a friends-with-benefits situation, like someone who only wants him for his body. (It wouldn’t be the first time.) But this is _Reid,_ and Morgan knows that’s not how he operates. Something else must be going on.

Unfortunately, if Derek needed any more confirmation that he’s in way over his fucking head, he gets it in the form of heartache. He can’t deny any more that he’s head-over-heels for a kid he used to make fun of for being awkward - and the more time goes on, the more he has to consider that Spencer may not feel the same way about him, and that possibility _hurts_ like Derek wouldn’t believe.

But he’s nothing if not persistent, so he resolves to get to the bottom of this as he plots a way to replace Reid’s obviously-negative memories of dancing with positive ones. Finally, after one too many rejections from his very-closed-off genius, he decides that he needs to take a different approach and hopefully kill two birds with one stone.

“Thanks for driving me home,” Reid says quietly from the passenger seat, staring out the window.

“I told you, you don’t have to keep thankin’ me,” Morgan laughs. “It’s no skin off my back.”

He takes an exit that will take them toward D.C. instead of where they both live, and Spencer immediately notices. “Derek?”

“Oh,” Morgan says, pretending to be casual, “after that boring day of paperwork, I thought we could both use a drink.”

“There are thirteen bottles of beer in your house and an unopened bottle of Jameson in my apartment,” Spencer says nervously.

Derek shrugs. “Something new, then. Think I’m startin’ to go a little stir-crazy.”

Reid makes a small, indecipherable noise. “Sorry.”

“What’re you apologizing for?”

“I don’t know. Sorry.”

“Reid,” Morgan groans, “what’s goin’ on, man? What’s wrong with going out to dinner?”

Spencer sighs. “Nothing. I - nothing.”

“Alright, but just know that I’m not stupid, pretty boy.”

“I didn’t-”

“And I’m gonna get it out of you at some point, so just keep in mind that I’m _letting_ you drop it right now because I don’t want this car ride to be miserable,” says Derek.

Spencer doesn’t reply, but he shifts in his seat and wedges his hands in between his thighs. He does that when he’s cold, so Derek turns the heat up a degree and says, “So, tell me about your progress on your Georgetown lectures.”

Reid eyes him warily but answers, “Well, we came to an agreement of four lectures, each an hour long, so I’ve spent the past week dividing the information and drafting lesson plans for each session…”

They cruise down the highway like that for about fifteen minutes, slipping back into comfortable conversation that helps convince Derek that he’s doing the right thing. This is nice - and now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t spent a ton of alone time with Reid in the past two weeks that hasn’t involved nakedness and orgasms, so it’s nice to know that they’re still able to talk like regular human beings. Male humans. Who are boyfriends.

When Morgan steers the car down the exit that’ll take them to the jazz club, though, Reid clams up again, and they drive for the last couple of minutes in apprehensive silence, the radio mocking them with the cheery beats of Uptown Funk.

“Red Skyline?” Spencer asks, reading the neon sign as they pull up outside the jazz club. “What is - valet parking? Derek, I’m not dressed for anything fancy, and-”

“You’re fine, seriously,” says Derek. “If anything, I’m the one who’s underdressed, but it’s not gonna be a problem for either of us. Just trust me.”

“But-”

“Do you?”

“Do I what?” Reid asks.

“Trust me?”

“Of course I do, Derek.”

Morgan smiles. “Then come on. Let the valet guy do his job.”

The inside of Red Skyline looks just like the website promised - there’s a sizable dance floor, but also a good amount of space for table service. It’s “big band night” and they’re there a bit early, so people are still setting up instruments and chairs on the small stage at the back of the club, and there’s a few free tables with menus already propped up on them.

“I’ve never been to a jazz club before,” Spencer says as they sit down.

“Neither have I,” says Derek. “But I - look, to be honest, I’ve been tryin’ to figure out something we can do together, someplace we can go out where we’ll both have fun, and this seemed like the best bet.”

Reid’s cheeks color, his eyes fixed on the drink menu. “I know I - sorry, I just - I was serious when I said you could go out without me, I’m not very good at-”

“But why would you think I’d want to go out without you?” Morgan asks, reaching across the table to take Reid’s hand. “I know we’re not officially out to our friends, but we’re - we _have_ something, don’t we?” Reid swallows, his fingers tightening around Morgan’s. “And I’m at the point now where I’d rather do stuff with you than be by myself. Whatever that involves.”

Spencer doesn’t say anything for a little while, but when Derek glances up he sees that the younger man is staring at him, his gaze open and vulnerable. The moment is broken when a waiter comes up to their table and asks if they’d like to order drinks.

“I’ll have a gin and tonic,” Spencer says immediately, not breaking eye contact. “Actually, make it a double.”

Derek gulps. “Uh, pint of Stella, please.” When the waiter leaves, he asks, “You wanna tell me what’s got you so nervous?”

“If you’re looking for some specific childhood trauma that you can expunge, I’m sorry to disappoint you,” Reid says quietly. “I just - don’t understand why you’re hellbent on dragging me to places that I’ve _said_ make me uncomfortable.”

“Look, if you really wanna leave, we can leave,” says Morgan, barely sparing the waiter a glance as he brings their drinks. The waiter seems to sense that they aren’t anywhere near ready to order food, so he bows his head slightly and then walks away. “But a jazz club is totally not the same thing as those other bars you didn’t wanna go to. We don’t even have to - we can just sit here and watch the band on the stage, I just… you’ve been shootin’ down all my ideas, kid, you gotta give me something to work with here. We can’t stay in forever.”

“We can’t?” asks Reid, finally cracking a small smile before he sips at his drink.

Morgan laughs. “I mean, a lot of the time, sure. I obviously don’t hate it.” He leers a little, then smiles when it makes Reid laugh again. “But - I know we have some different ideas of what we both like to do during our time off from the BAU, and I was thinkin’ we could - we _should -_ find stuff to do that makes both of us happy. ‘Cause that’s how relationships are s’posed to work.”

“But we like such different things.”

“Yeah, well,” Morgan shrugs. “Some things require more, like, _obvious_ compromise than others, but people find a way to make stuff like that work.”

“That makes sense,” says Reid. “I just - I’ve only ever been in relationships with people who are - well, a lot like me. To the point where I kind of feel like… with us, like I don’t belong.”

“Hey hey hey, why don’t you let _me_ be the one to make that call?”

“I _am_. I just spend a lot of time worrying that ‘the call’ isn’t going to be favorable for me.”

Morgan rolls his eyes. “Reid. _Kid._ I’m a straightforward guy and you _know_ that. Why’re you spendin’ all this time second-guessing everything when we _both_ know that if I wasn’t happy, I’d make that clear?”

“Derek, I spent the first twenty years of my life assuming that people say exactly what they mean, then the past ten years _unlearning_ that to read human behavior both for my social life and for my job-”

“Yeah, but you _said_ you trusted me, so what’m I s’posed to believe?” Derek interrupts, wagging his finger at the younger man and grinning as Reid sips more of his drink. “Don’t be lyin’ to me, pretty boy. Actually - quit lyin’ to your _self,_ to start.”

“If I agree to stop lying to myself, will you quit interrogating me so we can go back to enjoying our night and talking like normal people?” Spencer pleads, suddenly eyeing the dance floor like it’s an escape.

“Oh, so now this club’s enjoyable?” Morgan teases him.

“It’s a more desirable alternative than the current conversation.”

Morgan laughs and rubs his hands together. “That means my evil plan is working.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Reid laughs, pulling his hand out of Morgan’s grip just so he can slap him on the wrist. “Have I ever told you you’re the worst?”

“Mmm, once or twice. Now hurry up and let’s at least pick out an appetizer or something, I think we traumatized the waiter playing our little head games back there.”

Reid takes another sip of his drink before opening the menu. He’s smiling now, at least, and he seems much more relaxed and open than when they first arrived. “And whose fault is that?”

“I’d say yours, but apparently I’m ‘the worst,’ so-”

_“Derek.”_

xxx

An hour later, they’re finishing up their entrees as the second of four big bands scheduled to play finishes up their set. Reid’s in a much better mood now, at least it seems that way, and he bops along to the beat of the last song all the way until the last note and cheers for the band along with everyone else there.

As the next big band starts setting up, the two of them decide to share chocolate mousse for dessert. After the serious note of their earlier conversation, Morgan can’t figure out if Reid’s being intentionally suggestive as he licks the spoon, but his eyes stay locked on Reid’s lips all the same.

“You wanna stay for the next band?” he asks once they’re done.

Spencer glances toward the stage, where the musicians are tuning their various instruments. “Yeah, sure. I really liked the last one.”

Derek smiles. “You were even dancin’ in your chair a little bit.”

Reid blushes and looks down at his drink, which has been empty for a while. Before Morgan can suggest they go to the bar for a little liquid courage before braving the dance floor, two girls who look to be in their mid-twenties come up to their table.

“Hey, would you guys be interested in dancing with us when the band starts up again?” one of them asks. She’s about JJ’s height, Morgan thinks, with a similar build and red hair.

Reid glances over at Morgan, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. Morgan smiles at him reassuringly, then turns to the girls and says, “We’re actually, uh, here together. With each other. As a couple.”

The redhead smiles as the other girl, a curvy brunette, laughs a little. “Oh, good, that makes things easier,” she says. “We’re here together too, and you looked like the nicest pair of guys here who wouldn’t try to come on to us.”

Spencer and Derek both laugh.

“Anyway,” continues the redhead, “it’s our first time here, and we realized that both of us only know how to follow when we dance, not lead. Do you think you guys could help us out - like, teach us, or dance with us, or both?”

“Well, it’s our first time here too,” says Derek. “I’m no stranger to leading, but I’m not sure pretty boy over here would be that great of a teacher, since he’s refused all my attempts to get him out on the dance floor.”

Reid kicks him under the table and mutters, “Just because I don’t _like_ dancing doesn’t mean I don’t know _how,_ Derek.”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry, we didn’t even introduce ourselves,” says the brunette. “I’m Jackie, and this is Laura. Did you say your name was Derek?”

“Yeah, and this is Spencer.”

“Why don’t you like dancing, Spencer?” Laura asks.

Reid sighs. “I know the _mechanics_ of it, I’m not bad at it, it’s just-”

Before he can say anymore, the latest big band launches unannounced into their first tune of the set, and the whole bar cheers as people swarm back onto the dance floor. Jackie immediately starts bopping along to the beat of the drumset, and Spencer’s shoulders are twitching in a way that suggests he’s holding back from doing the same.

“C’mon, guys, no one gives a shit how good you are, look at these people,” Laura insists, gesturing at the well-dressed crowd of all ages who’ve moved onto the dance floor. “Half of them can’t even find the beat and they’re still having fun.”

The three of them manage to coax Spencer onto the dance floor, and within minutes they’ve gotten comfortable enough to pair off. Morgan’s comfortable enough in his dancing abilities that he decides to teach Laura how to lead, and every time he looks over at Jackie and Spencer, the younger man’s smile is only growing bigger.

xxx

Reid can’t believe how much fun he’s having. Because Derek seems to have taken it upon himself to teach Laura how to dance as the leader, he and Jackie can relax and make fools out of themselves without any pressure. This particular big band has more of a “swing” style than the last two did, which lends itself more to partner dancing, and Spencer will occasionally look around and see other people floundering as much as he is, which is comforting.

The atmosphere of the club has gotten better and better the longer he’s been here - some partygoers have gone all out in dressing up for the occasion, and some have clearly just come from work, but everybody’s clearly having a good time.

“So how long have you and Derek been dating?” Jackie asks after a couple of songs have gone by.

Spencer makes a face. “Um… I’m not sure if I can pinpoint an official start date.”

Jackie laughs and twirls obligingly when Spencer holds up his arm. “I’ve had a few of those relationships myself. How’d you guys meet?”

“We work together.”

Jackie raises a knowing eyebrow. _“That_ makes sense.”

“What do you mean?” Reid asks.

“Well, it’s hard to just spontaneously decide to start dating someone you work with,” says Jackie. “It’s way easier to just hook up with them and then build something up from there.”

Reid laughs. “How did you and Laura meet, then?”

They both pause to cheer along with the rest of the dancers as the band switches to a more upbeat song. Then Jackie responds, “Oh, me and Laura went the traditional route - got introduced by a mutual friend, I asked her out on a date a few days later, wine and dine and all that. Have you ever done the jitterbug?”

“I’ve seen videos of it, but never attempted it before,” Spencer admits. “This sounds like the sort of song one would do the jitterbug too, though.”

Jackie grins. “C’mon, I’ll teach you.”

When the band’s set finally ends half an hour later, the four of them are all equally sweaty and wrung out, huge smiles on their faces as they make their way over to the bar. Reid can’t take his eyes off Morgan, who looks radiant and happy and also ridiculously attractive with beads of sweat running down his neck. It reminds Reid of the way he looks after a shower, or the way he might look after other very strenuous activities - activities that Reid’s never tried but now really, really wants to.

Laura and Jackie both order martinis from the bartender, but Derek just asks for a glass of ice water.

“Do you want to leave soon?” Spencer asks him, nudging in close as Jackie and Laura talk excitedly to each other.

Derek takes a sip of his water and shrugs. “I’d be up for staying longer if you wanted. Why, you wanna leave?”

“A little,” says Spencer, biting his lip.

At first Morgan looks upset, like he thinks Reid hasn’t been having fun and feels guilty because of it, but the look in his eyes quickly changes when Reid leans in for a quick kiss. It’s much needier than usual, especially considering they’re in public, but Spencer can’t help it - there are a lot of feelings swirling around inside of him, emotions welling up because Derek did this nice thing for him and wants him to be happy, and they’re all coalescing into a fierce _need_ that’s overwhelming Spencer to the point of making out with the older man against the bar.

When he pulls back, Morgan’s eyes are locked on his lips. Reid blushes, not sure what came over him, but before he can second-guess himself Morgan turns them around to cage Reid fully against the bar and dips in for another kiss.

“Thought you wanted to leave because you weren’t having a good time,” Morgan laughs against his mouth, one hand coming up to tangle in his hair. Reid moans quietly and shakes his head. “Yeah, pretty boy, let’s go home.”

Those feelings are building into something that Reid doesn’t have a name for and it kind of scares him, actually, so once they break apart, he offers to go pay the bill and grab their coats while Morgan says goodbye to the girls and gives the valet their ticket.

“Yeah, well, as long as you let me pay next time,” Morgan grins, brushing a thumb over Reid’s cheek before finally letting go.

Reid walks back to their table feeling like his cheeks are on fire. He’s gotten in the habit of carrying a decent amount of cash in his wallet just in case he needs to be untraceable for a few days - everyone in the BAU has, really - so he has more than enough to cover their drinks and meal. It cuts down on time, too, which is good for the semi-situation in Reid’s pants.

By the time he gets back to the bar, Morgan is nowhere to be found - must’ve gone out to pay the valet - so Spencer waves goodbye to Jackie and Laura and makes his way outside, finding Derek easily in his thin t-shirt and quickly handing the larger man his coat.

“Thanks, baby,” Derek says easily, shrugging into his leather jacket.

Fuck. Spencer’s having a really hard time keeping his hands to himself. He wishes he could blame this on the alcohol, but they’ve only had one drink apiece - no, this is all him, heat running rampant through him as he anxiously waits for the valet to show up with Derek’s car.

Once they’re in the SUV, Spencer seizes the opportunity of the first red light they encounter to lean over and mouth at Derek’s jawline.

“Pretty boy,” Morgan grits out, his hand flying up to tug at Spencer’s hair, “ _baby,_ you’re killin’ me.”

“Just drive fast, please,” says Reid, pulling back as the light turns green. “But not too fast.”

“On it.”

Once they get on the highway, Derek’s not driving fast enough for Spencer’s liking - after all, as long as there’s someone going faster than them in the next lane over, they’re statistically very unlikely to get noticed by police - so Spencer decides some motivation might be in order.

“Derek.”

“Hmm?”

“I want to have anal sex.”

The car swerves alarmingly and several drivers around them honk in protest.

“You serious?” Morgan asks, his eyebrows nearly flying off his face.

“Extremely,” says Reid. “I’ve wanted to try it for a while and I’ve never trusted anyone like I trust you.”

Sometimes people tell Spencer that he’s too blunt, but Derek seems to appreciate it in this case, if the sudden hand on Spencer’s thigh and rumble of the accelerator are anything to go by.

xxx

By the time they get back to Derek’s house, they’ve talked enough about it in breathless, stammered sentences to establish that Derek’s going to be on the bottom the first time so Spencer can get his nerves out of the way. Because, make no mistake, as much as Spencer wants this, there’s a part of him that’s still terrified at the prospect of fitting Derek’s extremely considerable length inside him, and another part of him that’s very skeptical on how people could possibly enjoy such a thing.

“Oh, it’s enjoyable, I promise,” Morgan purrs as they let themselves in the house, Clooney jumping excitedly at both of them. “Here, I’m gonna go ahead and get ready upstairs, why don’t you let Clooney out and come up in five minutes?”

“Five minutes is so long,” Reid whines.

“It’s gonna be worth it, baby, I promise,” Derek laughs, stepping back a little so Clooney can run out into the yard and do his business. “See you up there.”

Every minute that passes downstairs without Derek is another minute for Spencer’s anxieties to make themselves known, though, and by the time five minutes is up Spencer’s second-guessed himself enough times that he’s starting to feel sick. He lets Clooney back in and pets at him a bit, grateful that the dog has warmed up to him but feeling kind of like an imposter who’s out of place presuming he’s worthy of having sex with Derek Morgan.

They’re familiar fears, of course, but they’re subdued the moment Spencer steps into Derek’s bedroom.

“I was beginning to think you forgot about me, pretty boy,” Derek rasps from the bed.

He’s beautiful - well, he’s _always_ beautiful, but right now he’s completely naked, his dark skin glowing against the white bed sheets, and he’s spread out and looking at Spencer with the sultriest bedroom eyes Spencer’s ever seen and he has a _finger up his ass._

 _“Derek,”_ Spencer breathes.

Morgan pats the space on the bed next to him, and Reid doesn’t think he’s stripped his clothes off faster in his life.

The door to the bathroom is open, the smell of a recent shower making the room sweet and steamy as Spencer crawls onto the bed. There’s an open bottle of lube lying next to Derek’s elbow and Spencer’s eyes feel huge, fixed on it, as he pets over Derek’s thigh with a shaky hand.

“I thought this might make it easier to handle,” Derek says, “y’know, first time at all. But I got a little carried away already.”

“Does it really feel that good?” Spencer asks.

Derek laughs quietly, then his eyelashes flutter as he moves his arm. “Promise. Thought you could - help me out, if you wanted.”

Spencer sits back on his heels so he can watch, his cock helplessly hard as he takes in the sight of Derek’s finger moving in and out of himself, the slide slick with lube. As he watches, Derek adds another finger, sighing a little and spreading his legs wider, presumably so Spencer can get a better look.

Out of - curiosity, maybe, or something like that, Spencer reaches out and presses a fingertip to where Derek has himself split open, and it’s warm and wet and with a little bit of pressure his finger sinks an inch inside, wedged tight against Derek’s as he thrusts them in and out.

Derek throws his head back and makes a soft, low noise that deepens as Spencer presses his finger further inside, mesmerized by the tight clench of his hole. He realizes with a start that this is what it’s going to feel like around his cock when they’re actually having sex, and he moans as his finger bottoms out, knuckle-deep as Derek bites his lip and makes that same low noise again.

“Not so fast, baby,” Derek mumbles when Spencer eagerly tries to press another finger against the clenched ring of muscle. “Takes a little while to - make it feel good.”

Oh, so there _is_ some pain involved. That makes more sense to Spencer. “I _thought_ it sounded too good to be true,” he giggles.

Derek laughs softly. “There _is_ something you can do to make it feel good faster, though.”

“Prostate stimulation?” Spencer guesses.

“Alright, smarty-pants,” grins Derek. “I guess I don’t need to tell you how to find it, then?”

Spencer gulps. “Technically, no, but.... I’ve never been able to find my own, so-”

“Aww, poor baby,” Derek coos. “We’ll have to change that, then, won’t we? C’mere.”

He tugs Spencer up and Spencer bends up awkwardly, his finger still lightly thrusting alongside Derek’s as the older man pulls him down for a kiss. One kiss turns into two which turns into more, and Spencer’s cock is leaking at the feeling of Derek’s body gradually relaxing around him, while still staying hot and snug.

“God, that feels good,” Derek mumbles against his lips. “Here - crook your finger up.”

Swallowing heavily against the nervous feeling of uncharted territory settling in his stomach, Spencer does as instructed, his mouth barely leaving Derek’s as he bends his finger and rubs along Derek’s insides in time with the thrusts of their fingers. He’s smooth, slick from the lube, but Spencer registers a slightly different sensation about two inches in if he applies a little more pressure.

“Oh _fuck,_ baby, that’s it,” Derek moans.

Sweat beads at Spencer’s hairline as he takes a deep breath and presses against that spot again, which he knows is the protrusion of Derek’s prostate gland. It’s hard to think of it in such clinical terms, though, when rubbing over it makes Derek’s hips jump off the bed and moans fall from his lips.

After Spencer knows where it is, it’s easier to find it on each subsequent thrust in, and before long he’s fingering Derek at the same pace as before except the other man’s cock is twitching against his own and he’s developed a death grip on Reid’s arms.

“Another, can you - m’almost ready, just need - another, oh _god.”_

Spencer leans back a little after placing one more sound kiss on Derek’s slack mouth so that he can get an angle with his hand that doesn’t make his wrist cramp. He looks down and watches, enraptured, as another one of his wet fingers slides inside Derek’s body. There’s some resistance, no doubt about it, but he wouldn’t have been able to fit in this finger at all a few minutes ago.

Derek’s breathing is quick and choppy; he’s squirming a little as he evidently tries to relax. Something in Spencer’s heart clenches and he bends his fingers as best he can, placing a steadying hand on Derek’s hip and smiling when he’s rewarded with a loud moan. He can’t believe that _he_ gets to do this - Derek’s so beautiful like this that Spencer can’t help but wonder if this is really just the best dream he’s ever had, or ever will have.

“God, yes, _yes,”_ Derek groans, throwing a hand up to cover his eyes as he rolls his hips obscenely.

“Derek,” Spencer breathes, his fingers digging into the other man’s hip. He doesn’t really have an end to his thought, and his mouth seems suddenly incapable of forming words, but he just wants to - _needs_ to say _something,_ needs to communicate how he’s feeling. All that comes out is, “Derek. _Derek.”_

“Should’ve known you’d be good at this,” Derek jokes weakly. “Pretty boy’s good at - _mmm,_ everything.”

Spencer looks down and almost gasps, realizing that he has _three_ fingers inside now - Derek’s pulled his own fingers out and god, Spencer doesn’t even know when that _happened,_ he feels like he’s in a trance. He’s the only one making Derek feel good now and it makes his chest ache in the best way; he tightens his grip on Derek’s hip and fucks his fingers in harder, blushing at the dirty sound the lube makes.

 _“Shit,_ Spencer,” groans Derek. Spencer giggles and does it again; Derek’s cock jumps and leaves a trail of precome on his delicious abs. “Baby, I’m tryin’ to - get this _open,_ Jesus, stop it.”

That’s when Spencer looks up and realizes that Derek has torn open a condom packet with his slippery fingers, and that they’re actually going to - he’s going to be _inside-_

“You okay?”

Derek’s voice, soft now. Concerned. Concerned about Spencer, when _Spencer’s_ not the one who’s about to be penetrated anally. _Silly,_ Spencer thinks, and pulls his fingers out.

“Just a little nervous,” he replies, taking the condom and blushing.

“Little Reid doesn’t look so nervous,” Derek says. He arches his eyebrow and looks meaningfully down at Spencer’s cock, which is so hard it’s starting to hurt.

Spencer pauses, condom rolled over the head of his cock. _“Little Reid?”_

“Yeah, that’s what I call it in my head.”

“Oh my god,” Spencer giggles. “If you’re going to name my penis you _have_ to think of something better than _that.”_

Now they’re both laughing, nerves finding the best possible outlet as Spencer rolls the condom the rest of the way down. “I’m open to suggestions, pretty boy,” Derek grins. “You don’t have a name for it yourself?”

“I’m - of course I don’t,” Spencer huffs indignantly. “Why, do you have one for yours?”

“Nah. Had a buddy in college who called his ‘The Black Mamba’ and that sort of put me off the whole thing.”

Spencer snorts, finding balance in the crinkles by Derek’s eyes as the older man’s legs fall further open, welcoming him. He shifts closer, staring down between their bodies, as Derek murmurs, “C’mere, wanna kiss you again.”

This time when they kiss, Spencer’s wrist doesn’t hurt and his cock is covered in polyisoprene and he _aches_ to be closer to Derek even though there’s not an inch of space between their bodies. He whimpers quietly when Derek tugs on his hair with his clean hand - he tries to shift closer and moans when their cocks rub together.

“Are you - was that enough preparation?” he asks tentatively, not wanting to move forward if Derek isn’t ready.

“Yeah, more than enough, you little menace,” Derek mumbles, nipping at his bottom lip. “Now let’s get this show on the road before I end it way too early.”

“Is your prostate that sensitive?” Spencer asks curiously as he leans away just so he can line himself up.

Derek snorts. “Yours probably is too, and I’m gonna have a _lot_ of fun paying you back once we switch it up.”

Heat flushes all through Spencer’s body and he bites his lip, fumbling around for the lube in the soft sheets and slicking himself up with a generous amount to try and distract from thoughts of Derek teasing and toying him with fingers inside him. Fisting his cock isn’t very distracting, though, so he takes his hand off and uses it to press Derek’s legs further open.

“Alright, so - I might stop you a couple times when you’re first pushing in,” Derek tells him, intertwining their other hands. “So just - hold as still as you can until I say I’m good, okay?”

“I can do that,” Spencer nods, suddenly feeling nervous again. His cock’s already there, though, nudging against Derek’s slick hole, and when the other man shifts closer it bumps up against him and it feels _so good_ that Spencer can’t help but moan.

He steels himself, gripping the base of his cock and pressing a little further. The pleasure is warm, debilitating, but he whines out a breath through his nose and keeps going, his mouth dropping open as his cockhead is slowly enveloped in hot suction unlike anything he’s ever felt, even inside a vagina.

Spencer actually whimpers when the head pops fully inside, sweat pouring down his neck as he stays there, paralyzed with pleasure, and Derek hisses out, “Stay - stay there for a second.”

Spencer glances up; Derek’s eyes are shut and his perfect white teeth are sunk into his own lip. It’s hot and heartbreaking at the same time, so Spencer glances down, and that’s even worse - his own cock, red and slick and throbbing, splitting Derek open. Only the shaft is visible. He’s literally - part of him is _inside._

Spencer wonders if it’s possible to die of arousal.

Derek’s chest heaves, and the next second it feels like he relaxes around Spencer, if only a marginal amount. “Alright, keep going.”

The more he pushes in, the less air it feels like his lungs can take in. Spencer doesn’t dare look down - he’s afraid he’d come on the spot - so he looks at Derek’s face instead, which seems caught in a very intense struggle between pleasure and pain. Spencer’s never had this much of an endorphin rush before during sex, not even during his very first time, and he wants to kiss Derek over every inch of his body all at once.

“Stop - just for a bit, again,” Derek groans, throwing a hand over his own face again. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Spencer breathes, the urge to kiss every inch of him growing stronger. He looks down by accident and- “Jesus _Christ.”_

He’s more than halfway inside at this point, and that knowledge combined with the _image_ of it is enough to have his balls throbbing.

Derek laughs weakly into his own arm. “I know, it’s hot, isn’t it?”

“Mhmm.” Spencer’s starting to feel light-headed. “Just - just tell me when you’re ready.”

He has no idea how he’s going to make it through multiple minutes of this exquisite torture without orgasming.

When Derek gives him the go-ahead, Spencer takes a deep breath and nudges inside the rest of the way, letting out a loud gasp when his hipbones press against the backs of Derek’s thighs. He looks down and moans outright, just a small peek of his own cock visible before the rest of it disappears inside Derek’s body.

“God, baby, yeah, stay like that for a second,” Derek moans, reaching up to tug him down.

Spencer lays on top of him, finally as close to him as he can physically get, and buries his face in Derek’s neck, trying to come to terms with everything that he’s feeling. It feels like someone lit a white-hot flame in his gut and the rest of his body is slowly melting from the sensation. It doesn’t even feel real.

“Derek,” he whines.

“You feel so good,” says Derek, kissing his cheek. “Knew you would.”

His cock is trapped in between their stomachs, and Spencer can feel wetness leaking from the tip. It must really not hurt that much, then.

Then Derek pats him on the ass encouragingly and Spencer moans. “C’mon, babe, it’s alright. You can move.”

Spencer doesn’t lean up, doesn’t want to look Derek in the eye - he knows he’d lose it - but he pulls his hips back, hissing at the clenching, slick friction up and down his cock, then fucks forward. They both moan at the same time from how fucking _good_ it feels, so Spencer does it again, chasing the addictive way Derek’s body seems to draw him in - does it again and again and again, clutching Derek tightly as he picks up a rhythm.

“Oh- _ho, fuck,_ god, oh god,” groans Derek, his fingertips dancing along Spencer’s sweaty back before really digging in. Spencer moans against his neck, out of his mind. “Love it like that, baby, just like that. _Fuck.”_

When Derek starts to roll his hips up to meet Spencer’s thrusts, Spencer thinks he might pass out. He leans up, trying to get some air in, and that must change the angle because Derek throws his head back and arches off the bed with a loud groan.

“Is that-”

“Keep doing that,” Derek cuts him off, his eyes wide.

So Spencer does, trying to focus on it like a task to keep himself from coming, and quickly finds out that if he thrusts against Derek’s prostate at the right intervals, he can make the older man cry out words that don’t exist in the English language.

“You’re so hot,” he gasps out, shaking hair out of his face as his hands slip on Derek’s hips.

“You’re so - fuckoh _fuckme,”_ Derek swears, his brow furrowing as he tosses his head back and forth. One of his hands comes down to stroke his own dripping cock, and once he’s got it at the same rhythm as Spencer’s thrusts, both of them moan so loud that Clooney starts barking downstairs. Even that doesn’t stop them, just startles a laugh out of Spencer even as his orgasm starts to creep up on him.

Derek’s eyes pop open seconds later, then immediately drop to half-lidded. “You’re so - _fuck -_ perfect.”

“Derek,” Spencer whines. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth, his balls equally so where they’re slapping against Derek’s perfect ass. “Gonna - gonna.”

Derek’s eyes light up. _“Oh,_ you’re close? Gonna come inside me, pretty baby?”

Spencer nods, keening, tears starting to form in his eyes as he watches the hypnotic slide of Derek’s hand on his own cock. Then he looks down, watching his cock pumping in and out of Derek’s body, and he drops back down against the older man’s chest, hiding his face in his shoulder as he feels the heat start to peak.

_“Derek-”_

“Yeah, baby, let me have it, come on-”

Spencer wails against Derek’s skin as he comes, clutching him tightly as he pushes in balls-deep and rocks his hips helplessly. It feels like his orgasm’s being physically pulled from him, his cock having been clutched in that tight heat for so long - he doesn’t know if it’s sweat or tears that’s dampening Derek’s neck-

“You’re so hot, _shit,”_ Derek marvels, his voice rumbling in his throat as Spencer starts to come down from his mind-blowing peak. “Lean - can you lean up a bit, baby, please-”

Spencer does, hiccupping in pleasure as an aftershock rolls through him. He’s about to ask if Derek wants him to keep going - honestly, he doesn’t think he can, it’s starting to get so sensitive - but Derek just licks his lips and starts stroking his own cock again, faster now as his body starts to spasm around Spencer’s dick.

“Derek,” Spencer breathes, because apparently it’s the only word he knows.

The only word he knows is also apparently enough to push his boyfriend over the edge, because Derek shouts out a few unintelligible curse words and arches off the bed as his cock starts to spurt over his stomach. Spencer can barely focus on that, though, because his hole’s clenching sporadically around his sensitive cock and it drags a devastating aftershock that almost feels like a second orgasm out of him, making his whole body quiver uncontrollably as he tries to stay focused on how beautiful Derek looks.

When it’s over, Spencer collapses onto Derek’s chest again, uncaring of the cooling sweat and come that’s now smeared between them. All he cares about is getting his mouth on Derek’s again, and they shudder against each other as their breathing slowly regulates once more.

“I want to do that again,” is the first thing Spencer says, “but also never move again in my life.”

Derek laughs and hugs him closer. “I don’t think either of us are goin’ anywhere for a while. But I meant it, pretty boy, I’m _so_ gonna pay you back once we switch.”

Spencer smiles, snuggles closer and rides out the flood of neurotransmitters that were released into his brain during his orgasm. God, he can’t _wait._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Spencer bottoms! Feelings happen! Words maybe ruin everything! Also another case.
> 
> Let me know what you thought in the comments! I'd really appreciate it :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Spencer spend the rest of the weekend at Derek's house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry for not updating sooner! The next chapter will come out within the month, this I can promise. Sorry again my loves :')

If Derek thought Spencer got boneless and pliant after blowjobs, it’s _nothing_ compared to the way he gets after anal. He’s like dead weight on top of Derek, warm and sleepy and so, so sweet, and after a few minutes it’s with a _lot_ of regret that Derek gently pushes at the younger man until he rolls off, his soft cock slipping free as Derek winces.

“Oh, sorry, that must’ve been getting uncomfortable,” Spencer mumbles, giggling at the end.

“Hmm?”

“Me being inside,” says Spencer. He turns his face against Derek’s shoulder and smiles. “I got - used to it. It was so nice. And warm.”

“Thanks for the glowing review.”

“Shhh,” Spencer giggles.

Derek eventually gets up and wanders into the bathroom to wet a washcloth and clean himself up. When he walks back into his bedroom, he discovers that Spencer’s tied off the condom and rolled over _just_ enough to stretch his arm over the side of the bed and drop it into the trash can.

“You know, once upon a time I had high hopes for us joining the mile-high club, kid,” Derek tells him, climbing back on the bed and gathering the genius into his arms. “But there’s no way in hell that’s ever gonna happen, ‘cause you’d fall asleep in that tiny little bathroom afterwards and Hotch would have both our asses for it.”

“I don’t get _that_ tired,” Spencer protests. His eyelids are fluttering as he says it.

Derek grins. “Yeah, whatever. You can take a little nap, I won’t judge.”

“No, no, wanna stay up,” mumbles Spencer. “You said we could - switch later.”

“I didn’t mean, like, _right_ now tonight,” Derek says, rubbing over his shoulder. “I don’t know if I can go again that soon.”

Spencer peers up to look into his eyes with an amused expression on his face. “I didn’t think you were _that_ old, Derek.”

“Whoa whoa _whoa,_ don’t tell me if I grabbed you and started jerkin’ you right now it wouldn’t be too much.”

“Mmm, maybe not _right_ now, but it’s only 9:30 and I can’t stop wondering how it feels to have my prostate stimulated.”

_Jesus._ Derek will probably never get over how blunt this kid is - it’s jarring sometimes, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Truth be told, he’s been thinking about getting his fingers inside Spencer ever since the other man told him he’d never been able to find his own p-spot, so it’s probably going to be pretty easy to get it up again. “Alright, genius, keep your pants on. Lemme get something to drink first.”

“I’m not wearing any pants,” Spencer tells him, following his lead and getting up off the bed.

Derek pulls on sweatpants and tosses a pair to Spencer, wrapping his arms around the younger man’s waist and kissing the back of the neck as he pulls on the borrowed sweatpants. Spencer giggles softly, then half-moans when Derek bites down gently.

“Derek…”

Derek makes a low noise in his throat, squeezing Spencer’s hips once before stepping back entirely. His pretty boy is _way_ too tempting. “C’mon, I want a little somethin’ to eat.” When Spencer gasps quietly and arches against him, Derek clarifies, “No, like - actual food. In the kitchen.”

Although eating Spencer out always sounds appealing as fuck.

Once they’ve made their way to the kitchen, Derek grabs a glass of water for each of them and starts rummaging through the fridge for some yogurt. “You want anything to eat?”

“We just had dinner,” says Spencer.

“That was hours ago,” Derek points out. “‘Sides, I don’t know about you but I’ve worked up an appetite, pretty boy.”

Spencer blushes and smiles against the rim of his glass. He climbs onto one of the barstools next to Derek’s kitchen island and once Derek’s grabbed a cup of greek yogurt he slides onto a stool and joins him.

Spencer’s nose wrinkles when he sees what Derek’s eating. “Yogurt, really?”

“What’s wrong with yogurt? It’s a good source of protein,” says Derek, suggestively licking strawberry goodness from the back of the spoon.

Instead of the heated gaze he’d hoped to inspire, Derek’s met with a look of disgust from the younger man. “There’s an average of 440 billion bacteria per six-ounce serving of yogurt. If you look at it under a microscope it even m-”

“Moves, yeah, yeah, I know, I took a science class once,” Derek interrupts him. “Several, actually. So what? Bacteria’s in everything and this stuff is _good_ for you.”

“All I have to say is you’d better brush your teeth afterward,” says Spencer.

Derek grins. “Why, you wanna kiss me more? What if I wanted to kiss you right _now?”_

Spencer scrambles off the barstool when Derek leans over, but Derek isn’t going to give up that easily. There’s a little bit of a tussle and a whole lot of laughing once they’re on their feet, and Derek’s whole body feels warm as he gets Spencer pressed up against the counter and cups a hand around the back of his head to keep him in place for a kiss. Spencer manages to mumble “Gross” and moan at the same time, which is pretty impressive, Derek’s gotta say.

_There we go,_ Derek thinks greedily as Spencer’s lips part and let his tongue inside. His hair is still sweaty beneath Derek’s fingers, reminding him that only minutes ago he’d been inside him - and considering it was Spencer’s first time, he was pretty damn good at it. There’s a delicious ache in Derek’s ass that he hopes doesn’t go away for a while.

Eventually Spencer pushes him away, wiping at his lips and pouting even though his eyes are happy. “The only reason I didn’t push you away sooner is because the strawberry flavor actually tastes pretty good.”

Derek laughs, delighted. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“No you _won’t,”_ says Spencer. “We’re not making a habit of this, because - just - no. What other food do you have?”

After Derek’s finished his yogurt and Spencer’s munched on some wheat thins, they end up in front of the television trying to catch some very late news, mostly because they’ve been off the grid for about six hours. Spencer’s long, lean body takes up most of the couch, his head pillowed in Derek’s lap as he sighs happily and stretches. Something warm twists in Derek’s stomach and he runs a hand through Spencer’s messy hair, paying much more attention to him than to the news.

Spencer’s hair isn’t just one uniform color, Derek notices as he twirls it around his fingers. There’s light brown strands, ones like spun gold, and darker ones that weave in and out between Derek’s fingers. He smiles, completely out of it, as Spencer laughs at something that’s just been said on the television.

Derek’s been in long-term relationships before and he’s definitely been in love before, and fuck if this isn’t starting to feel a hell of a lot like love. Normally it feels a little bit scary, a little bit overwhelming, but this feels so safe and comfortable and normal that that in _itself_ is kind of terrifying. He just wants… he wants a lot of good things for Spencer. Spencer deserves so many good things, that’s something Derek’s known for years, but now he very specifically wants to be the _reason_ the younger man smiles.

“Thank god it’s a weekend,” Spencer murmurs after another few minutes, glancing up at Derek with a smile.

“Shh, don’t jinx it,” Derek laughs. “Somewhere across town Hotch is just _waiting_ next to his phone for a case.”

“Now who’s jinxing it?” They both laugh. “Plus I’m sure Hotch cherishes every second of time off he gets with Jack.”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” says Derek. “We gotta cherish our time off, too. Anything you wanna do tomorrow?”

Spencer shrugs. “It’s supposed to snow, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, think so. We could build an igloo.”

“What are we, twelve?” Spencer laughs.

“Hey, I saw that photo you posted on Facebook of that snowman you made last year, and most twelve-year-olds are better at snow-sculpting than you. You need all the practice you can get, pretty boy.”

Spencer tries to pout but can’t cover up a laugh, his nose scrunching as he slaps lightly at Derek’s chest. A blush spreads over his cheeks as he mumbles, “I’m more interested in practicing other things.”

“Oh, it’s like that?” Derek grins, his hand tightening a little in Spencer’s hair. “I don’t know, baby, you seemed like a natural to me.”

Spencer narrows his eyes. “That doesn’t mean I can’t use more practice.”

“No it does not,” Derek agrees quickly.

xxx

Derek knows that originally Spencer had wanted to fall back into bed with him and have another round of sex after waiting for their food to digest, but he’s practically falling asleep on the couch by the time the news segues into late night talk shows and Derek shuts the television off.

“C’mon, time for bed, pretty boy,” Derek tells him, brushing a gentle finger over his lips.

The younger man has taken to wearing Derek’s clothes to bed, and he’s looking forward to seeing Spencer in his t-shirt - or, he thinks with a little smirk, nothing at all.

Derek changes the sheets while Spencer gets ready for bed in the bathroom. He plops the old sheets in the hamper next to Clooney’s bed and feels his dog’s curious eyes on him as he stretches a new fitted sheet over the mattress.

“Don’t judge,” he tells Clooney.

Spencer comes out of the bathroom a short time later wearing only boxers. He makes a happy noise when he sees Derek’s gotten fresh sheets on the bed then gives him a little smirk, nose wrinkling.

“Not that the germaphobe in me isn’t ecstatic, but it’s very impractical to change the sheets when we’re about to mess them up again.”

Derek raises an eyebrow. “You were like, _super_ asleep downstairs! Don’t tell me _now_ you’re ready to go.”

“Well, you know, sometimes younger people get these things called whims,” Spencer grins, slinking over to wrap his arms around Derek’s neck and kiss him briefly. “And our bodies are able to respond accordingly, but I understand if you’re too old to remember what that’s like-”

“Whoa whoa _whoa,_ I’m gonna stop you right there,” Derek cuts him off.

He leans down and bites gently at one of Spencer’s weak spots on his neck. The younger - only in age, not in spirit and agility, Derek reminds himself - man moans and tilts his head to the side. “Give me five minutes and I’ll come out here and rock your world, pretty boy.”

Derek puts force into the next kiss, gripping the curve of Spencer’s lower back as their tongues slip together. He nips at Spencer’s bottom lip then pulls back, then walks into the bathroom in smug satisfaction while leaving Spencer standing there with blown pupils and the closest to speechless his expression gets.

Derek’s quick in the bathroom, in and out of the shower in under a minute before rubbing some lotion on his arms and legs because the air gets so fucking dry in winter. Then he brushes his teeth and heads back out, already half-hard from anticipation. He clearly can’t get enough of this gorgeous-

-beautiful, very asleep genius.

Derek sighs fondly. He can’t even be disappointed - well, fuck yeah he can, but not _really,_ because Spencer looks so adorable curled up under the covers.

He turns off the light and scratches Clooney behind the ears before climbing in next to Spencer, curling around him and sighing happily against his neck. Spencer makes a soft noise and cuddles closer, and Derek’s struck once again by how much he wants to be responsible for the other man’s happiness - how deeply he cares for him.

It makes it pretty hard to fall asleep, actually, but eventually he manages it, drifting away with Spencer in his arms.

xxx

“Oh my god - your hands are - so cold,” Spencer giggles as goosebumps break out down his legs. He grabs for the blanket and tries to wrap it around the both of them, but Derek holds him down and kisses the side of his neck. “I told you you should’ve worn thicker gloves.”

“The thicker the gloves are, the worse they are at packing snow,” says Derek. “That’s why your snowman looked like a slug.”

“It did _not,”_ Spencer protests, finally succeeding in getting the covers pulled over them both. He shivers when Derek slides his cold hands around to his back.

It’s been a great Saturday so far; Spencer was allowed to sleep in til ten o’clock, which is more leeway than he’s gotten from Derek in weeks. Then they cooked breakfast and tried to build an igloo outside before quickly realizing that the consistency of this particular snow and the physics of an igloo made that impossible. They fell back on building snowmen, then, and Spencer won’t ever admit it but, yeah, Derek’s _was_ much better than his.

And now they’re here in bed, in from the cold as Spencer desperately tries to get warm again. He’s not as skinny as he used to be, but his percentage of body fat relative to his mass is still pretty low, so he gets cold very easily. Luckily he has Derek to warm him up. Except for his _cold cold cold hands._

“And here I thought I wanted to try anal fingering,” Spencer murmurs against Derek’s lips. The older man groans happily and his fingers tighten on Spencer’s waist. “Not with those hands, though! We might as well be inserting ice cubes.”

“Hey, my fingers’ll feel a lot better than ice, I promise,” Derek chuckles. “And if you think my _fingers_ are cold, imagine the way your entire body feels to me right now.”

Spencer blushes, realizing that that’s probably what is preventing Derek from getting hard against his hip, in contrast to Spencer, who’s been squirming against Derek’s deliciously warm body and roving hands all over his naked skin while his cock steadily fills up. He moans against Derek’s mouth and slips his tongue in between his lips, rolling his hips to warm both of them up.

“Mmm, you’re so sweet,” Derek murmurs, stroking his thumbs over Spencer’s skin. “How’d I get so lucky?”

Spencer’s cheeks feel hot now. “I can’t even make a good snowman.”

Derek laughs and pecks him on the nose. “Well, I’m not gonna deny that, _but_ there’s plenty of other things you’re _perfect_ at and you know it.”

They kiss hungrily for another minute and Spencer relaxes into the bed, finally feeling warm again. Sometimes Spencer finds he can focus during a kiss, to the point where he can fine-tune his technique and consciously do things with his mouth, but this is not one of those kisses. It rarely is, with Derek - the older man overwhelms him to the point where his brain quiets down and all he can do is _feel._

“You’re heatin’ up now, pretty boy,” Derek mumbles, grinning.

Spencer squirms underneath him. “So are your hands.”

“Yeah?” Derek says, wiggling his fingers against Spencer’s hips. “Should we put ‘em to good use, or do you wanna do something else?”

Spencer thinks back to last night, how responsive Derek was underneath him. He wants to _know_ what that feels like. “I - um. Can we try it?”

Derek kisses the corner of his mouth and brushes some hair back from his face. _“Yeah_ we can try it. And if it ever starts to - if you ever decide you don’t want to keep going, you just tell me right away, okay? I told you, there’s plenty of other things we can do.”

_“Derek,”_ Spencer huffs, exasperated. “I want to.”

“Okay.” Derek kisses him again. “Okay.”

Derek has to reach a little bit to grab the lubricant from the bedside table, and Spencer shifts nervously, gravitating toward the pillows so he can get comfortable.

“Now don’t be mad at me for this, but this might be easier for you if you flip over,” Derek says, settling back over him.

Spencer frowns. “Why?”

“Hurts less,” says Derek. “Something about organs shifting or gravity or something.”

“But I want to see you,” frowns Spencer. “I don’t - I don’t-”

“Shh, that’s alright,” Derek says, his eyebrows drawing together. Spencer loves how expressive his face is. Well, he loves his face in general, but the expressivity is one of his many good qualities. “It just might hurt a little more. Until it doesn’t.”

Spencer blushes and hides his face in Derek’s neck, trying to get as close to the other man as possible. Derek rocks down against him a few times until they’re both breathing hard, until Spencer’s mind is pleasantly blank again, and then he feels Derek gently nudging his legs further open. Derek kisses down his neck and Spencer gasps, unable to look away - especially when Derek locks eyes with him, his gaze filled with heat and concern at the same time.

Then Spencer feels a wet finger press against his hole and he startles, body jerking even under Derek’s weight pinning him to the bed. _“Nnh.”_

“Too cold?” Derek asks.

“No, just - unexpected.”

“Well, you better expect a couple of fingers before I put my dick anywhere near your ass,” Derek laughs. Spencer would laugh too, except Derek’s rubbing the pad of his finger around his entrance as he says it.

Spencer hisses out a breath when Derek wedges his fingertip inside. He grabs at Derek’s back and tries to pull him back up, desperate for a shoulder to hide his face against, but Derek just raises an eyebrow and flicks his tongue out to tease one of Spencer’s nipples.

Heat shoots through Spencer’s body and he groans, arching his back to push against Derek’s mouth. He realizes a second later that it’s meant as a distraction tactic, because suddenly Derek’s finger is all the way inside and Spencer can’t even _focus_ on it because his nipples are so sensitive. He wiggles his hips a little and whines when he feels the finger shift inside him.

“Feel okay?”

Spencer considers it - it feels a little unnatural, a bit like an intrusion, but something about it is so confusingly erotic that his cock gives a small twitch against Derek’s hip. “Yeah - yes.”

“Hmm, you’re usually more verbose than that,” Derek grins, moving his finger an inch out and then back in. Spencer groans. “What’s the matter, pretty boy?”

There are no words to describe this, is what Spencer wants to say. He doesn’t, though, just bites his lip and claws at Derek’s back when the finger moves in and out again.

“Try pushing me out a little bit,” Derek suggests.

“What? No-”

“Seriously, it helps. Helps you relax, makes it easier.”

Spencer hesitates but then does as Derek urges him, wishing he could make himself smaller and hide in Derek’s shoulder forever. He’s surprised to discover that bearing down on Derek’s finger makes the stretch burn less - the next time Derek’s wet finger slides inside it feels like every nerve ending he brushes lights up and Spencer keens, fucking his hips up, because he wants _more._

“Yeah, there you go,” Derek encourages him. “Feel good?”

“Do it again,” Spencer groans. He throws his head back, past shame, when Derek grips him tighter and drives in again.

Sensory experiences sometimes overwhelm him but this isn’t _like_ any other experience Spencer has ever had. Derek’s lips are hot on his chest, pressing kisses over his skin, and the smell of his cologne is everywhere, woven into the sheets and rubbed all over Spencer’s body - and his _fingers-_

“You’re doing so good,” says Derek. “Do you wanna try taking another?”

Spencer gulps. He shifts, already feeling split open and too exposed… he wonders how on _earth_ he’s supposed to fit Derek’s dick inside him. “Okay.”

Derek looks up at him and frowns. “Just okay? We don’t have to do this if you don’t-”

“No, please, please, I do want to,” Spencer insists. “I just - I’m having trouble imagining how much further I can - stretch.”

A blush rolls down his cheeks at the admission, and he can actually _see_ it reaching his chest where Derek’s chin is currently resting.

Derek arches an eyebrow. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell _you_ that the human body is capable of amazing things.”

Spencer giggles despite the situation they’re in, and a smile stretches across Derek’s lips at the sound. He leans up for a kiss and Spencer meets him gratefully, because Derek’s mouth is something he’s familiar with at this point, something comfortable and safe. He spreads his legs a little further to let Derek know to continue; it doesn’t feel quite so terrifying like this.

The stretch of two fingers burns a little but this time Spencer’s equipped with a strategy, thanks to Derek - he bears down and tries to relax, breathes out harshly through his nose as their tongues slide together, and before he knows it Derek’s fit two fingers all the way inside, pressed in to the last knuckle.

“Oh god,” he groans against Derek’s mouth.

Derek shifts a little closer to him, and when Spencer’s cock presses against the older man’s hip, his whole body jolts. Derek makes a low sound. “You’re so hot.”

The fingers inside him thrust in and out a couple of times, and just as Spencer is starting to get used to it, Derek curls his fingers and presses them up, up-

_“Ohmygod,”_ Spencer babbles, digging his nails into Derek’s shoulder. His abdomen feels tight, hot, like pressure’s eating him up from the inside out as long as Derek’s fingers are massaging that spot inside him. The part of his brain that’s still thinking rationally tells him this must be his prostate gland.

He fucks his hips up and lets out an embarrassing sob when Derek’s body on top of him prevents him from moving too much. He has to move, has to do _something,_ or else the pleasure will consume him, he’s sure of it.

“There it is,” Derek grins. “See, this is why I was makin’ all that noise last night.”

“You can - gloat later,” Spencer chokes out. He moans loudly when Derek pulls out, then pushes his fingers back in at a different angle that lets him press firmly over that spot inside him. “More, please, _Derek.”_

“Yeah, I got you, baby boy.”

Spencer pulls him back in for a kiss and time melts together, then, because he has to focus all of his energy on not coming too soon. He doesn’t doubt for a second that he would be able to come just from prostate stimulation, because every time Derek presses against it he feels like he has to cross his legs and his cock leaks a little more fluid between them.

Derek doesn’t ask when he should add a third finger because he doesn’t have to - Spencer spreads his legs even wider, tries to wrap them around Derek’s body and _clings_ to him, embarrassingly asks for more. The third finger only burns for a second before Derek makes it feel perfect again with a knowing twist of his hand. Spencer feels so full that he’s afraid just the knowledge of it might tip him over the edge.

He still can’t imagine what Derek’s cock is going to feel like, but he’s apprehensive for an entirely different reason now. He can’t _wait._

“Want another?” Derek asks against his lips, voice rough.

Spencer shakes his head - he reaches in between them and wraps his hand around Derek’s cock. “This. I want this.”

“Mmmm,” Derek groans. Spencer feels like he can’t get close enough to him. “God, I want you so bad. You’re so gorgeous, you know that?”

Like he often does in reaction to compliments, Spencer squirms. He still doesn’t understand why _Derek Morgan_ would feel the need to tell him these things, but putting that into words would sound too self-deprecating at a time like this. “I want you too. Please.”

“Well, since you asked nicely,” Derek grins. “Though - seriously, don’t kill me, I really think it might be easier at first if you’re on your stomach.”

Spencer gulps. If he turns his face to the side, he’ll still be able to kiss Derek, so he’d still feel comfortable. “Okay. I don’t want to - um - come like that, though.”

“We’ll have to see if you can hold off, then,” says Derek, his mouth quirking up even further.

Spencer rolls his eyes fondly and turns over onto his stomach, whimpering a little when Derek’s cock presses into the cleft between his ass cheeks. He resolves to hold back his orgasm until they’ve changed positions and he can see Derek’s face.

It might be a lot harder to do than he initially anticipated, though; when Derek presses a kiss between his shoulderblades and pulls his hips up, Spencer whimpers and his cock twitches against his tummy. He tenses up when he feels the blunt head of Derek’s cock against his hole - it feels slicker than usual, and he realizes belatedly that Derek must have applied lubricant while Spencer was lost in his own head.

“Alright, breathe, pretty boy, just breathe.”

Derek’s voice is low, rough yet soothing, and Spencer tries to do as he says. He inhales deeply, exhales slowly, and just when he’s about to breathe in again, Derek pushes forward and Spencer gasps.

He tries to breathe in again, diaphragm hitching because it _hurts,_ he knew it would, it’s much bigger than even three of Derek’s fingers. Spencer groans into the sheets and tries to hold still; he can tell when the glans of Derek’s cock is fully inside because the width actually decreases slightly, which is a blessing.

“Worst part’s over, I promise,” Derek murmurs, running a hand through Spencer’s hair.

If Spencer thinks about it and imagines what kind of a picture they make, it helps him replace pain with pleasure. His legs are trembling, and when Derek pushes in a little further, he opens his mouth and mashes his face into the sheets, overwhelmed.

Derek stops again after a moment - Spencer thinks hysterically that Derek seems to know his body better than he himself does. A hand strokes over Spencer’s back, calm and sure, everything that Spencer _wasn’t_ when he was in that position yesterday.

“Okay?” asks Derek.

Spencer nods, trying to keep himself relaxed. If he moves or even clenches at all it feels like he’s impaled, which is simultaneously terrifying and extremely erotic.

Gradually, with two more breaks, Derek eases himself the rest of the way inside, and by the time Spencer feels the older man’s hips flush against his ass, he’s not sure he’s ever going to be able to move again.

“Hey, pretty boy, hey. You with me? C’mere,” Derek murmurs, leaning over him and kissing his shoulder.

Spencer makes a muffled noise against the sheets then cranes his head back, searching for Derek’s mouth. Derek kisses his neck, then his cheek, then finally his lips, and Spencer cries out against him when he rolls his hips. It’s probably a small movement, but to Spencer it feels like the whole world is shifting, and he clutches the sheets tightly when Derek does it again. They’re both breathing hard against each other - it’s all Spencer can do to keep his hips from collapsing to the bed.

He can’t decide whether he’s experiencing pain or pleasure right now, and he’s never been so happy to be confused and uncertain.

_“Derek-”_

Spencer chokes on air when Derek grabs his hip and tilts his pelvis at a different angle, because on his next thrust inside his cock pushes against Spencer’s prostate and the white-hot pleasure that shoots through him is almost too much to take. Combined with the feeling of fullness, Spencer doesn’t think he’s ever been so overwhelmed in his life.

“Yeah, like that?” Derek’s voice is deep velvet, soothing. Spencer’s overheating.

He tries half-heartedly to move his hips too, to participate in some way, but Derek’s taking him apart piece by piece and Spencer can’t help but let him. Especially when Derek starts moving his hips faster and punches the breath out of Spencer’s lungs with every thrust inside.

“Oh g-god, oh my god,” Spencer keeps moaning.

“You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous - _Spencer,_ baby, yeah, take it, just like that-”

_“Fuuuck,_ fuck fuck fuck-” Spencer gives up even trying to kiss Derek and buries his face back in the mattress, panting raggedly, but then he remembers that he doesn’t want to come like this. “Derek, can we - I want to - see you.”

“‘Course, baby boy,” Derek says. He leans up and grips Spencer’s hips with both of his strong hands, then pulls slowly out.

Spencer’s embarrassed at how _empty_ he feels once Derek is no longer inside him. He rolls over shakily, face burning, and reaches out for Derek immediately, pulling him close. Derek’s eyes are intense and he doesn’t say anything, just kisses him deeply; that is, until Spencer makes a small noise and shifts his hips up, wanting Derek back inside him.

Derek breaks away and looks between them, breathing hard. He still doesn’t say anything, none of the gentle teasing that Spencer is used to from him - instead, he just grips his cock and maneuvers it back between Spencer’s legs. He slides in easily this time and they both moan lowly. Spencer’s face feels like it’s on fire, especially when he finds himself thinking that Derek is back where he belongs.

It does feel more overwhelming like this, so Spencer’s glad they started in the other position - but now it’s just addicting. They’re both sweaty now, and Spencer’s hands slip over Derek’s muscled back when he tries to wrap his arms around him and hold him close.

He digs in with his nails instead and Derek hisses, buries his head in Spencer’s neck and starts to roll his hips again. Like this, Spencer can see the way his ass flexes every time he thrusts forward, and that _would_ be the best thing about this position, except for the fact that their stomachs are providing the most _delicious_ friction for Spencer’s cock.

It’s so delicious that he’s getting very close very fast, actually.

“I’m already - Derek - I’m gonna-”

“I know, baby, me too,” Derek groans against his skin. “You feel so fucking _good, fuck._ You need my hand? _”_

“No,” Spencer gasps, “no, I - have your abs.”

It’s such a ridiculous thing to say that he starts giggling, almost delirious, and even laughter doesn’t stop him from tumbling over the edge, back arched obscenely as Derek continues to fuck him hard. Derek huffs out a breath against his neck that might also be a laugh and then he grunts lowly, losing his rhythm before burying himself inside and staying there.

Coming with a dick inside him is life-changing. Spencer didn’t think his body could feel this much pleasure.

“God, I love you,” Derek groans against his throat.

Spencer freezes, even though his body’s still going through an aftershock. He’s never said that to anyone before, romantically. No one’s ever said it to _him_ romantically before until _right the fuck now._ And he has no idea if saying it back would be a lie or not.

“D-Derek, I - I, um-”

“Shh, you don’t have to say anything back right now,” murmurs Derek. He leans up enough to smile at Spencer. “I just wanted to tell you.”

Spencer smiles back, hoping his face doesn’t look as nervous as he feels. He settles back into the bed and tries to relax again, accepting the kiss Derek gives him as a distraction.

Well, shit.

xxx

The next day is a Sunday, and after lunch Spencer drives back to his own apartment, having spent the last two nights at Derek’s house. He’s actually never been happier to get back to his own place, only because he _really_ needs some time to think.

Spencer grabs an apple and sits down at his desk, thoughts ricocheting noisily inside his head. Whenever his thoughts get too loud or too cumbersome or too numerous, he usually writes to his mother, so he pulls out a blank sheet of paper and grabs a pen.

 

_Mom,_

_I’m going to preface this letter by acknowledging that this isn’t a subject you enjoy discussing, but I’ve never had to talk about something quite so urgently before now. Now that that’s out of the way, I’ll rip the band-aid off: I need to know if I’m in love or not._

_I don’t think I’ve ever been in love with anyone. I’ve said I love you to people, sure, but those have all been family members. This didn’t worry me until yesterday because, until yesterday, I figured that being in love was some sort of all-consuming, all-or-nothing feeling that I would unequivocally know I was experiencing. But yesterday the guy I’ve been seeing for a few months told me he loved me for the first time, and I couldn’t figure out if I could say it back honestly or not, and I didn’t want to lie, so I panicked and didn’t say anything at all. He was very understanding about it and said that it didn’t bother him if I didn’t feel the same way, but I could tell he was lying. (That in and of itself was interesting - I think I’ve become more adept at observing and analyzing the behavior of good, normal people since we began our relationship, instead of just the behavior of criminals and psychopaths.) _

_By the time you get this letter, I will probably have made a decision regardless of whether or not I’ve actually figured out what I’m feeling. I’m thinking about talking to JJ and asking her for advice, but since she’s a profiler I’m worried she may figure out who I’m dating just by analyzing my linguistic tendencies. That wouldn’t normally be a problem, but the FBI policy is strictly against dating coworkers, and I don’t want to jeopardize my job just because I need help understanding human emotion._

 

He stops writing. Considers.

 

_I also don’t want to jeopardize my relationship because I need help understanding human emotion._

 

Considers again.

 

_The choice is clear. You’re always very helpful with these things, Mom._

 

Spencer crumples up the letter, throws it in the trash, grabs his keys and a cardigan, and bolts out his front door. He hasn’t seen his godson in a little while anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought in the comments or on [tumblr](http://povverbottoms.tumblr.com)!


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